The Hunger Games: Peeta's Point Of View
by Katelyn Hutcherson-Mellark
Summary: Everything had already been brought together, but I'm just now clicking it into place. Something only I can do. That feeling of determination has spread through every inch of my body, and my heart is racing a thousand miles an hour. I finally know what I want to do. What I Have to do. I know it will cost me my life, but. . . . I have to protect Katniss. She has to go home.
1. Chapter 1: The Reaping

I lay in my bed, watching the dust float around my room as the rays of the early morning sun break through the shutters at my window. It falls and settles as if it knows it's the only day it can do so. Today is reaping day. I sit up, thinking of what the day will bring. What will happen? Who will be picked? I don't know. While these things are churning in my head I slip out of bed, put on a simple T-shirt and pants, and head to the kitchen to do my morning chores. I push open the door and walk to the little closet in the back with my aprons. I slip one over my head and start tying the strings when my mother walks in and starts yelling. "Peeta! Where are you?" She asks, can she ever not yell? I doubt it. She never has.

"Over here, mom!"

"What are you doing in here? You need to be getting ready to go to the square!"

"I'm starting on my chores."

"Not today, you're not! I'll have your brother do it! Now get out of here and get cleaned up! Now!" I sigh, and do as she says.  
The walk back to my room seems to take forever. But when I do finally get there, I go into the bathroom and turn on the water. My clothes are still clean, so I fold them and put them back in my dresser,or what I call a dresser anyway, and slide into the tub. Just as I start to get comfortable, it hits me. All these questions I don't have answers to. The same ones that come up every year at this time that I can't answer until the reaping is over. It starts giving me a headache, and the more I think all of it, the more fear creeps into me. _Stop it_, I tell myself, _you'll only make it seem worse than it is_. So I try to keep my mind clear of thought, and it works for about fifteen minutes, then it all comes swarming back and I'm forced to get out. I pull out my nicer shirt, pants, and my newly polished shoes, then slick back my blonde hair. I stand in front of the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. Blue eyes full of worry, my whole face is full of worry, basically. I look myself up and down and notice how tense my muscles are. On reaping day, this is normal. I begin to relax a little as the smell of fresh baking bread fills the air. Perfect.  
I walk into the kitchen to find them waiting for me. My mother, father, and my two brothers. "About time, Peeta." Says Mason. He's eighteen and it's his last year in the reaping, so he's in a fairly good mood today. I sit at the end of the table and we eat in silence. This is the only day we get to eat the fresh bread, which is a good thing, I suppose. Getting reaped, here in District Twelve, basically means your death being chosen out of thousands. But at least I would have a good last meal here at home before I'm killed. If I ever get reaped. But with all those names in that bowl, and my own being in there only five times, I'd say the odds are against my name being read off that slip of paper. But there is one person I worry about. Katniss Everdeen, the girl I've had a crush on for eleven years, since the first day of school. Her name will be entered twenty times, having to sign up for tesserae. Grain and oil in exchange for having your name entered a few more times in the ball. I see her do it often. The thought makes me sad. And the other thought that her and her family might not even have anything to eat this morning, makes my appetite diminish. I finish my meal and wait out the rest of the time in my bedroom. I stare out the window, thinking, for what seems to be hours, but is only half one, before I see people heading for the square. I get up and face the mirror once more, only to see my father behind me in the doorway. He stares at me with a sad expression for a few minutes before he says anything.

"Hey, Peeta." He says.

"Hey, dad." I reply.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind right now, that's all."

"Peeta, I doubt your name will be chosen. Mason has a greater chance of it than you do, but with all those names, the odds are more against either of your names being called. You'll be fine." He says, but he can't hide the worry in his voice.

"It's not just me I'm worried about. Actually, I wasn't worried about myself at all until you mentioned it. It's someone else."

"Oh. . . May I ask who?" This takes me by suprise. He usually leaves this kind of stuff alone so he doesn't have to deal with it. So, Naturally, I push his offer away.

"No, it's nothing. I better start making my way to the square before the peacekeepers come break down our door." He looks at me, he wants to say more, and he does.

"Are you sure?" He asks, clearly not convinced it's nothing.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I say flatly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he just sighs and waves me out the door.  
I walk in an ocean of kids, ages twelve to eighteen, as these are the ages of the kids eligible for the Games. As I enter the square, I'm herded into a roped-off section for sixteen-year-old boys, like myself, and await the ceremony. I hear the town clock strike twice, noting that it's two O'clock. Mayor Undersee comes up to his podium and gives his speech, the same one every year. About the past of our country, how it used to be called North America, but crumbled and Panem evolved from it's ruins. With the big and rich Capitol, and 13 districts supporting it. Then the part about the dark days, how the thirteen districts rebelled against the Capitol in terms of freedom, but twelve were obtained, the thirteenth blown to the moon, you could say. And the result from it was The Hunger Games. A cruel way of the Capitol showing us that we cannot overpower them. So each district has to send one boy and one girl to fight to the death while the rest of us sit and watch. "It's both a time for repentence and a time for thanks." He says. _Yeah, sure it is_. I think. As he reads the 'list' of of Victors District Twelve has had, I wouldn't really call it a list. There have only ever been two, only one still alive. Haymitch Abernathy. Always drunk, always alone, and almost always never around. He stumbles onto the stage and tries to hug Effie Trinket, the escort for District Twelve. The mayor tries to get everything back under control, and quickly passes the attention to Effie as soon as he does. She walks - Or should I say skips - up to the podium.  
"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" She gives her speech, and it's time for the name drawing. As like every year, it's "Ladies First!" She goes over to the girls' ball, and rummages deep into it and pulls out a single slip of paper, and walks back to her spot., and she slowly starts to unfold the paper._Please don't be her, please don't be her_, I think. But when she reads the name, I get a sort of sting. It's not her, but it might as well be. It's Primrose Everdeen, her twelve year old little sister.


	2. Chapter 2: The tributes

I just tilt my head and stare at the ground. The croud starts to talk in hushed tones, but I don't say a single word. A twelve year old. More importantly Katniss' twelve year old sister! How could this happen? Why her? Out all those names... I hear footsteps and turn up my head in time to see her walk past. Pale, Clenched fists, and scared. As she passes, I see that the back of her shirt has fallen out of her skirt, forming somthing that resembles a duck tail. "Prim!" I turn and see her, working her way through the croud towards her sister. _Oh,no._ I think, _please don't. _"Prim!" Just as Prim is about to walk up the stage steps, Katniss steps in front of her. _No, _I think, _Katniss, don't!_ "I volenteer!" _No! _" I volenteer as tribute!" I just stare at her. Back and forth between her and Prim. _The odds do not want to be in my favor today. _I think, _This can't get any worse! Wait... Or can it? Stop it, Peeta._ I order myself, _Just stop._ I breathe in and hold my breath, hoping it helps with my thoughts. "Lovely!" Exclaims Effie Trinket, "But I do believe there'e a small matter of introducing the reaping winner, and then asking for volenteers. And if one does come forth, then we, um. . ." She doesn't even know. But it doesn't matter now. "What does it matter?" Says Mayor Undersee, he's looking at Katniss with what looks like a sad expression from here. Could it be, that the mayor actually feels bad for her? "What does it matter?" He says again. "Let her come forward." After he says that, Prim clings onto Katniss and starts screaming.

"No,Katniss! No! You can't go!"

"Prim, let go!" Katniss says harshly, but even from here I can tell she's trying not to cry. I don't blame her. "Let go!"

Someone walks up behind them, Gale, I think is his name, and picks up Prim, who is trying so hard to get down. "Up you go, Catnip." He says. I can tell he's trying not to cry, as well. They stare at each other for just a second before Gale takes Prim to their mother, and Katniss mounts the stairs. All of a sudden I get a small felling of jealousy. _She's going to her death! Her sister had to be pried off of her! You shouldn't be feeling jealous! _I scream at myself. Now even I'm on the verge of tears. "Well, bravo!" Trills Effie, clearly excited. "That's the spirit of the Games! What's your name?" Katniss takes a moment before answering. "Katniss Everdeen." She says. "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her stealing all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" She beams happily, probably excited to finally have a little 'fun' in her job. But no one claps, or realy moves. Silence. But slowly, one person, then another, soon everyone, including myself, brings the three middle fingers of their left hand to their mouth and holds it out to her. Seen usually only at funerals, because it means godbye to someone you care about. All of a sudden, Haymitch Abernathy gets up and stumbles over to Katniss and throws an arm over her shoulders. "Look at her! Look at this one!" He yells, Katniss gives a small grunt as he shifts his arm, he must be holding her pretty tight, by the look on her face. "I like her! Lots of. . ." He stands there with a puzzled look on his face, trying to find a word. "Spunk!" He beams. "More than you!" He lets go of Katniss and walks toward us, pointing at the camaras as he speaks. "More than you!" Who does he mean? The other districts? The people of the Capitol? Who knows, because before he can continue he walks right off the stage, knocking himself uncontious. As he does this, the camaras follow his every move. Which isn't much now, cause he's pretty much dead to the world. They come and collect him, taking him away on a stretcher, and Effie Trinket still seems excited. Who knows why? "What an exciting day!" Says Effie. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" She walks over to the boys' name ball with one hand on her head, probably trying to keep that rediculous thing she calls hair from falling off. She picks the first slip she touches and heads back to the podium. _Please please please don't be me! Don't be me! _She opens the slip and reads the name; "Peeta Mellark." _NO! No, no, no! How? WHY?_ I scan the croud and lock eyes with my father before the camaras can find me. His eyes are wide with alarm, but my mother remains almost emotionless. No suprise, there. I make my way through the field of people and start walking to the stage. The odds have no intrest in helping me this year, and will most likely completely abandon me in the arena. As I walk I try to keep my face clean of emotion, but I can barly manage. All these new thoughts and old memories come pouring into my mind, but one memory comes numorous times, so I cling to it. I climb the steps and take my place on stage. Effie Trinket asks for volenteers, and I immediately find, and lock eyes with Mason, who just shakes his head rapidly and stares at the ground. No suprise there, either. The mayor comes back and reclaims his spot and begins his long speech, like he does every year after the tributes have been chosen, but I'm not really paying attention. All I can think about is that one memory... That night five years ago, when we were eleven... It was a rainy day, a good day to be inside baking. If only my mother would stop yelling so much. After I finished decorating the small cake I had been working on for hours, I placed it in the store window, then my mother started yelling at me to take care of the bread that was in the oven. As I started walking to it, she opened the front dorr and started screaming at someone. I peered over her shoulder and saw her. Katniss, going through our trash for food. She locked eyes with me for a split second as she backed away. Mother closed the door and mumbles somthing as she walkes away, but I don't hear. I watched her make her way through to the back and collapse against the apple tree. _I have to help,_ I thought, _somehow._ And then I got an idea. I went over to the oven to take out the bread, but purposly knocked the two loaves into the rich flames. As I removed them, my mother was yelling at me, and as soon as I stood up, she slapped me. She kept yelling at me as I trudged into the rain and mud to feed them to the pig. "Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!" She slammed the door behind her, and I start tearing chunks of the bread off, trying to get the burned parts. Then without looking where they land, I toss them in Katniss' direction and go back inside. I watched her out the window as she looked back and forth between the bread and the house. She quickly snatched up the bread in her jacket, holding onto them for dear life. as she ran away, I couldn't help but smile a little, and then went back to work. This and more was traveling through my vision as the mayor approached the end of his speech. I stand there, going through all the times she caught me staring at her in the school hallways, but averting my gaze when she did. As the mayor concluded his speech by telling us to shake hands, I did. And as I did I looked her straight in the eyes, and gave her hand a hopeful squeeze, and turned back to the croud as the anthem of Panem starts to blare through the speakers. And I stand, hoping my death won't be her fault.


	3. Chapter 3: The goodbyes

**Hey, gu**y**s! It's Katelyn. :) I didn't think a lot of you were reading, but I was wrong! This is my first real story, so I hope y'all are liking it! Please review, and PM me any thoughts you might have! (: I'm actually done writing all the way to chapter 8 and I'm working on 9 (The interviews!) ! So please leave your reviews, the really help me when I write! LOAF YOU ALL.** :3

As soon as the anthem ends, we're swarmed with peacekeepers. They guide us into the justice building and put us each in a room with plush chairs, couches, and carpet. I never thought I would ever come in one of these rooms in my lifetime. Well, not as a tribute, anyway. I've come up here a few times to say goodbye to friends, but that's it. I never thought I'd be the one being said goodbye to. And I only get an hour to say my goodbyes. Once I leave here I'm pretty sure I'm never coming back. The first two people to visit me are my friends Hunter and Vincent. And then another pair of boys, then a few teachers. I heard one of them mumbling on his way out and just caught his last few words; "He was a good student... Gonna miss him." He doesn't think I'm coming back, which is probably true. As the latest pair of my friends leave, I catch a few of their words, too.

"Hey, it's Peeta. He won't go down without a good fight."

"Yeah, but that won't change anything. We're never gonna se him again." My eyes start tearing up after they leave. _No one thinks I stand a chance, _I think,_ and they're most likely right._ After the first few tears trail down my face, my parents walk in. Didn't think they would. I sniffle and stand up, and my father gives me a hug.

"Oh, Peeta. . ." He whispers. "I'm so sorry." I just pull back and look at him.

"It's not your fault, dad. The odds just aren't in my favor today." I say.  
He purses his lips and sits next to my mom, who just studies me.

"Where's Mason and Orlando?" I ask, and my dad just stares at the carpet.

"Orlando had to watch the shop, and Mason was too upset. He couldn't bear it." He replies, starting to get even more upset.

"Oh. . ." My voice trails off. I can barly get the next sentence out, afraid I'll start crying. "What about you, mom? You haven't said a single word to me since you came in." I say angerly. My own mother has nothing to say to her son before he goes to his death. I should have seen this earlier.

"No. Because I actually think District Twelve might finally have a Victor this year. So theres really nothing to say." She says. I'm taken by suprise. One, that she didn't yell. Two, that the thinks I can win? "She's a survivor, that one." She looks up at me and stands. She puts a hand on my shoulder just as the peacekeepers come to collect them. "Good luck." And with that she walks out. What did she mean? Then it hits me like a pile of bricks. _She means Katniss._ I think. _Not me._ Right as the words play themselves through my thoughts, I know they're true. My father embraces me one last time.

"Good luck, son." He says, and walks out, and I'm left alone. _She's a survivor, that one. _She had said. She means she thinks Katniss can come home, but not me. Her own son. She gave her own son the cold shoulder. This just makes me cry. This goes on for about ten minutes before the peacekeepers come to take me to the train station. I wipe the remaining tears from my face as I'm escorted to the car that's going to take us to the station. I shouldn't have cried. The station is cluttered with camar crews and reporters. But there's no use in hiding it, now. The peacekeepers have to push quite a few people out of the way for us to reach the doors of the train. We stand outside of them, so the camaras get good shots of us, but I take it as a last look at my home before I'm sent to be slaughtered. We're finally allowed to enter the train, and as soon as the doors close behind us, the train jerks forward. The speed of the train nearly knocks me off my feet. I've never been on one before, but these Capitol trains can go up to 250 miles an hour. So when I regain my balence, I'm taken to a room that will be my assigned quarters until we reach the Capitol. A Big space with a bed, dressers full of clean clothes, a bathroom with a shower that has hot water. Not slightly warm water like at home, but HOT water. Effie says we can do what we want, and wear anything we want, but to be ready for dinner in an hour. So I decide to take a shower. Just like pretty much all of District Twelve, I've never had one before. Until now. It feels so good, that I almost don't notice Effie knocking on my door calling me to dinner. So I step out of the shower and dry myself off. I go over to one of the dressers and pull on a clean T-shirt, pants, and find a pair of shoes in the closet, so I put those on, too. I walk around the train until I find the dining car. Haymitch is just walking out as I walk in.

"Where are you going? Effie says it's time for dinner." I say, but he just scowls at me.

"Well, I've been waiting and nothing has happened. So now I'm going to take a nap." He says gruffly, and staggers our of the room. I take a seat at the table, and sit for about five minutes when Effie and Katniss walk in.

"Where's Haymitch?" She askes brightly.

"Last I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap." I reply.

"Well, it's been an exhausting day." Says Effie. She seems a little happier knowing he won't be here. I can guess why. They take their seats, and the meal is brought out a little at a time. Carrot soup, salad, Lamb chops with mashed potatoes, fruit and cheese, and last a big chocolate cake. Effie says to save room, but I can't as well keep myself from eating. The first time I actually have enough to eat. So I'm stuffing myself, bite after bite.

"At least you two have decent manners." Says Effie, just as I'm finishing the last of my potatoes. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion." I remember that pair. Two kids who were from the Seam and bone thin. I can understand why they would do that. Manners didn't matter to them. They don't matter much to me, either, but this is just how I've always eaten. But Katniss makes a point by putting down her utensils and finishing her dinner with her hands. Which, of coarse, brings a smile to my face. And it makes Effie purse her lips and try not to go off. Once we finish dinner, I start feeling sick, and I can see my arms go slightly green, so my face must be, also. Katniss looks queasy, as well, so I can only imagine she's fighting to keep it down, too.  
We walk to another car to watch the recaps from today's reapings. They go by, district by district. There's a tall brown-haired boy from District one, a blonde-hared girl also from one, a short curly-haired boy from District 4, a huge, bulkey guy from 11, and a small twelve year old from 11. After they show us, it ends, really, after Effie stops complaining about her wig.t laugh.

"Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior." She says, and I can't help but laugh.

"He was drunk," I tell her. "He's drunk every year."

"Every day." Katniss chimes in, and gives a slight smirk, which makes me smile some more.

"Yes." Effie mocks. "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and death!" As if on que, Haymitch stumbles into the room. "I miss supper?" He says, his voice slurred from sleep and alchohol. Then he pukes on the carpet and falls into it. "So laugh away!" Effie exclaims. She makes her way around the mess and leaves the room. Leaving us to tend to Haymitch.


	4. Chapter 4: The Train

**Thank you guys for the reviews! They help a lot! :) I'm just writing to let you know that since this is Peeta's side of the story, I had to create the whole Peeta-giving-Haymitch-a-shower scene! :)P So I REALLY want to know what you think! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!:) One more thing.. I AM using the lines and actions from the book to help me. I want it to seem as if it's actually from his perspective straight from the book. Please let me know if I'm doing a good job!(: Loaf y'all! :3** ~Katelyn

After Effie leaves, Katniss and I just watch Haymitch for awhile. He tries to get up from his pool of vomit, but ends up falling back in. But Effie _was_ right, about Haymitch being our lifeline once we get into the Games. As if Katniss had read my thoughts, we both get up and help him off the floor. "I tripped?" He asks. "Smells bad." He means to wipe his nose, but just smears more of the bile onto his face.

"Let's "get you back to your room." I say. "Clean you up a bit." So when we get a good grip on him, we half-carry half-lead Haymitch to his room. We get him into the shower, clothes still on, and turn on the water. But he doesn't notice. Yet.

"It's okay," I tell Katniss. "I'll take it from here." She looks at me for a moment, probably deciding if it's some sort of plan to win his favor.

"All right." She finally says tiredly. "I can send one of the Capitol people to help you." I take this under consideration, but just end up shaking it off.

"No, I don't want them." I say. She nods and walks out. I turn back to Haymitch and size up the scene. He's pretty out of it. I have to keep one hand on his shoulder to keep him from toppling over. But I need to get his clothes off or all this will be useless.

"Haymitch, I need you to grab hold of the bar on the wall, okay? Just hold onto it until I say you can let go." I say gently, making sure he can hear me.

"What?" He asks.

"Hold that bar on the side of the bathtub wall. And don't let go unless I say so." I repeat, showing him where the bar is, and he takes hold of it. I sigh, and plunge in. I get his shirt off and hold it under the running water to rinse the reeking liquid from the fabric. I start to do the same with his pants before he asks his first question.

"What are you doing?" Haymitch asks.

"Cleaning you up." I sigh.

"Oh. . . Why is it raining in here?"

"It's not raining, Haymitch, you're in the shower."

"Oh. . . Why are you giving me a shower?" I toss his pants into the sink with his shirt, and turn to him and cross my arms. "What?" He asks me.

"First of all, you ask too many questions. Second of all, I'm giving you a shower because you're too wasted to give yourself one. You'd most likely fall and knock yourself uncontious again or somthing." I reply, clearly making a point, because he puts a puzzled face on, then nods.

"Very true." He says.

"Okay. Now, no more questions. At least till I'm finished." I say haltingly. I finally get his underclothes off and start scrubbing him down. I clean the last of the vomit off and let him step out onto the mat to be dried. I get him into a pair of pijamas and he slips into bed. But I doubt he'll stay there.

"Be sure to be at breakfast, Haymitch." I tell him, and walk out. It takes me about fifteen minutes to get his clothes to one of the Capitol attendants and walk back to my room. When I get there I decide to take my own shower. Haymitch left me feeling... Icky.

As I let my hair soak in the warm stream of water, my meeting with my parents pops in my head. _No, because I actually think District Twelve might finally have a Victor this year. So there's really nothing to say. _She had said. The only thing she really said to me was 'good luck', and even that was half-hearted. My own mother doesn't think I can win. That's helpful for my self esteam, isn't it? And my dad had said he was sorry. For what? Me getting reaped? Not being a better dad? Mason not stepping up for me? Not being able to step in himself? There are too many live possibilities. He had also said Mason was too upset to see me. Could it be true? Could he really not bear to say goodbye? Regretting not volenteering to take my place? No. Mason isn't like that. He doesn't care what happens to me. He never really has. _Face it, Peeta, _I tell myself. _He probably just didn't want you to ask him why he didn't volenteer._ This thought makes me upset so I get out of the shower, pull on my own nightclothes, and climb onto the plush, silky mattress. I stare at the ceiling and think of Katniss. If she even remembers that night with the bread, the times I flit my eyes away whenever she caught me staring. I'm thinking so hard, before I know it, I'm fast asleep.

My eyes slowly open, and I find myself staring at the nightstand on the left side of the bed. But the rappid knocking at my door has me sit bolt upright, knocking any fatigue out of my body. It's Effie, calling me to breakfast, no doubt. So I get up and pull on a clean pair of clothes and head to the dining car. When I arrive, the only person present is Haymitch. Huh. Didn't think he'd show up, much less be the first person here.

"Hey, where's everyone else?" I ask, and he just looks at me.

"Well, Effie went to collect the two of you. Didn't think you'd get here this quickly." He says.

"I didn't think you'd show up at all." I tell him. He looks me up and down, then takes a swig from a flask at his belt.

"Good point. Sit down." He tells me, nodding to the chairs across from him. So I walk over and take a seat. One of the Capitol people brings be a heaping, or rather overflowing plate of Ham, eggs, rolls, and fried potatoes. There's fruit in ice, too. I'm given a glass of orange juice, a cup of some brown stuff, and coffee. I'm not a huge fan of coffee, but, hey? Who knows how much longer I'll be alive to drink it? So I take a sip, but just set it down again. My eyes land on the brown stuff, but I ignore it until about half my platter is gone, then I give in.

"What's that, Haymitch?" I ask, pointing to the brown liquid.

"That would be hot chocolate, Peeta." Effie says. I didn't even notice she came in.

"Oh. . ." But I just stare at it, watching the steam curl into the air and dissapear.

"It's good. Try it." She says, and walks off to get coffee. At least I think that's what she's doing. But I finally pick up the cup and take a small sip, and warmth starts to spread through my body. I set it down and stare at it again.

"What? You think it's going to do a trick or somthing?" Haymitch says. This comment makes me frown at him. I pick up a couple peices of egg and throw them at his face. Behind me, Effie gasps.

"Peeta! Don't throw your food!" Her inconvinience makes Haymitch chuckle even more than before, and I pick up a roll, slightly embarrased, just as Katniss walks in.

"Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch says, waving her over. She sits down and is brough her meal. I find she is staring at the hot chocolate.

"They call it hot chocolate." I tell her. "It's good." She takes a sip, and gives a slight shudder, and chugs down the rest, and plows into her food. I'm about to start eating my roll, but my eyes land on my hot chocolate again, and I get an idea. I start taking chunks of my roll and dipping them in the chocolate just as Katniss leans back and serveys the table. After a couple minutes of this, I notice she's staring at Haymitch with a look of discust, who's drinking again. But then she leans forwards and the look vanishes.

"So, you're supposed to give us advice." She says to Haymitch. This catches my attention. So now we're both looking at him expectantly.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." He tells us, then starts laughing. No wonder District Twelve never stands a chance. He doesn't help the tributes like he should. I look over at Katniss, who stares back, looking like she's thinking the same thing.

"That's very funny." I tell him. I eye the glass of wine in his hand, and lunge across the table. I knock the glass out of his hand, and it shatters on the floor, staining the ground a watery red. "Only not to us." He looks at me, them punches my face, knocking me to the floor. I hear the sound of impact, and look up to see Katniss with her hand around a knife that's sticking out of the table, very close to his fingers. He sits back and serveys us.

"Well what's this?" He says. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" I stand up and grab some ice from around the fruit, and bring it up to my jaw, but Haymitch stops me. "No," He says. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another trubute before you've even made it to the arena." _You can't be serious,_ I think.

"That's against the rules." I tell him.

"If they catch you. That bruise will show you fought, didn't get caught, even better." He says, turning his attention to Katniss. "Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?" He asks her. So she yanks it out of the table, gets a good grip on it, and throws it towards the door, where it plants itself between two panels at the entrence. I look at it and raise my eyebrows. "Stand over here. Both of you." He orders, nodding us to the center of the car. He starts circling us, poking us, and examining us. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless." He says. "Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you you'll be attractive enough." I take a deep breath, partially relieved, partially wanting to ask questions about what he means. But I keep quiet. "All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you." He eyes us both. "But you have to do exactly what I say." I clench my jaw at his offer. But at least he's offering to help.

"Fine." I snap at him.

"So help us." Katniss says. "When we get to the arena, what's the best stratigy at the cornicopia for someone-"

"One thing at a time." He interupts. "In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you, but whatever it is, don't resist."

"But-"

"No buts. Don't resist." And with that, he grabs his flask and walks out, closing the door behind him leaving us in darkness. _We must be in the tunnel to the Capitol, _I think. Katniss and I stand, not saying a word to each other. But when the train breaks free of the blackness, she and I both run to the window, eager to see the city. The tall buildings loom over us, the people go about their day, and cars drive down the streets. When they see us approaching they yell and point happily. Katniss backs away from the window when she sees them do this, a horrified look on her face. But I stay, and wave and smile until I can't see them anymore. I turn and see her staring at me, and I shrug.

"Who knows?" I tell her. "Maybe one of them is rich." We watch each other for a moment, before Effie comes to collect us to bring us into the great city of Panem.


	5. Chapter 5: The Opening Cerimonies

I lay on a metal bed with holes in it, as the prep team scrubs me down. They're scrubbing me so hard they take off a layer or two of my skin. They shampoo and condition my hair, and and finally pat me dry. I'm moved to another table and they start to work on me.

"Theres a lot to do here, Peeta! Wait, that is your name, right?" One of the members of my prep team asks. Fantasia, I think is here name.

"Yeah. That's my name." I tell her.

"Oh, good!" She shrieks. "I thought I had gotten it wrong!" I stiffle a smile, and then one of the other prep team members, Hutchly, turns around with a needle in hand. My eyes widen and I swallow hard at the sight of the five-inch point connected to a tube of slightly orange liquid. He sees the expression on my face and chuckles.

"Don't worry, this is only to prevent you from growing facial-hair in the arena. We wouldn't want that, now would we?" Hutchly says. I clench my teeth and flinch as he pokes the needle into my arm, all the way down to the tube, and presses the liquid into my bloodstream. "You're doing a lot better than most of the trubutes we've had to deal with. Last year's boy, I can't quite recall what his name was, screamed when he saw the needle, and we had to pin him down to get him injected. Portia will be glad she won't have to deal with anything like that." He says. Then he and the other preps get lost in conversation. About the opening cerimonies, their daily lives,and they're friends' lives. But I just stare at the ceiling. Finally, after a few hours of poking, prodding, and scrubbing, they're finally satisfied with me and send me to see my stylist. _Finally. _I think. I start to wonder what Katniss' prep team is doing to her. Is she injected like I was? No, girls can't grow facial hair. The thought of them poking and prodding Katniss like they did to me makes me wrinkle my nose, and so I try to push those thoughts out of my head. I'm shown into a room with nothing more than a metal bed, the prep team saying a robe is not nessisary for meeting my stylist. _It's completely nessisary! A little privacy, maybe? _I think. _Haymitch better know what he was talking about..._ The prep team says it will be a few minutes until my stylist comes in, so I try and sit on the metal bed, but it's too cold to be sitting on when one is completely naked, so I find myself pacing back and forth in the room.

About fifteen minutes of this, and the door slowly opens. I halt in the middle of the room and watch her enter. She stops two feet in front of me and studies my face. Then she gingerly steps forward and offers me her hand.

"Hi, Peeta. My name is Portia, I'm your stylist." She says lightly. I watch her for a moment more before answering.

"I would assume. Hi." I say, taking her hand in a friendly but cautious shake. She's not like so many of the other stylists you see in the Games. No plastic sugery, no crazy hairstyles, and no crazy clothes. She wears a medium pink short sleeve striped bar back shirt with a pearl white skirt that comes 2 inches above the knees, and ankle high black leather boots. Her hair is just slick close to her head, letting the hair just under her neckline flow loose, and her bright pink eyeliner.

"Are you a new stylist?" I ask, before I can stop myself. But she just gives a half smile.

"Yes. Cinna, Katniss' stylist, and I, are both new this year. We thought District Twelve could use some. . . . Improvement." I nod as she starts to circle me, poking my muscles and lifting my arms. I feel very exsposed while she does this; but then again, I am. So I'm relieved when she says her next words to me.

"Okay." She says. "This will work. Let's get you somthing to cover up with and we'll go eat. . . And talk about the opening cerimonies?" I watch her as she makes her way to the door and steps out. Moments later, comes back in and tosses me a red robe. So I put it on and follow her out. We reach another room- Much like the dining car on the train- Where the food is just being laid out. Delicate grilled fish with a pineapple topping, steamed broccoli with a cheese sauce, boiled corn on the cob smothered in butter, bread sticks, and a rich peach cobbler for dessert. I stare at the feast before me, wondering if Katniss is having the same thing. Or maybe somthing different. As I start filling my plate, I think of how my family must be doing back home. I feel my dad will be misrable, but everyone else will be unharmed. I wonder what they'll be eating right now. Or Katniss' family. Katniss' family! How are they staying alive without here there? How will they- _No. Stop it, Peeta. Now is __**not**__ the time to be thinking about Katniss!_ So I take a deep breath and as I take my first bite of cheese covered broccoli, and Portia starts to talk.

"So, Peeta. Tonight are the opening cerimonies. And you're going to need a costume to impress the sponsors." She says.

"Yeah." I tell her. "We're District Twelve. We mine coal. Not that exciting."

"Oh, but it is. What do you mine again?"

"Coal."

"And what do we do with coal?"

"Burn it for fire."

"Exactly." I take a big bite of the fish, and it dawns on me what she's trying to say.

"Burn. . ." I mutter. She leans in with a half smile, rolling her hand in a tunnel motion, waiting for me to finish."Fire!" I gasp.

"There you go! Now you've got it." Portia exclaims.

"But. . . Fire will burn us." I say cautoisly.

"Oh, no! Not real fire. It's some synthetic flames Cinna and I created. You'll be perfectly fine!" She says. But there's an edge of doubt in her voice. _You're nuts! Completely nuts... _I think. I deal with enough fire back home. I don't want to be lit with it. "Alright. Let's go get you ready, then." She says, gesturing towards the door.

I follow her to yet another room where she fits me into a black... Jumpsuit, you could call it, with a long cape. So the only skin showing is that of my hands and my head. She slicks back my hair and gets me into some lace-up boots, puts a little makeup on my face, places a crown-like thing on my head and stands back to admire her work.

"That should do it! Let's get you to the chariots." She says. We exit the room and walk down the hall where we meet Katniss and her stylis, Cinna. She's wearing an outfit the same as mine, and looks a bit relieved when I get there. We ride the elevator down to ground level. Portia and Cinna heard us into our chariot, pulled by four beautiful coal black stallions. They mess with us, moving us around until they're satified and move away to chat.

"What do you think," Katniss whispers, "About the fire.?" I grit my teeth at the word 'fire'. _I think we're going to burn to death. _But I can't really go around saying that, can I?

"I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine." I tell her, teeth stil clenched together.

"Deal." She says back. I let out a small sigh of relief after she says this. "I know we promised Haymitch we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle."

"Where is Haymitch, anyway?" I ask her. "Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?"

"With all that alchohol in him, It's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame." She says sarcastically. This comment makes me laugh, and she joins in. Probably both just so worried about burning to death that anything sounds funny. The opening music starts, and the huge double doors open to show the crowded sidelines of the streets. The District one tributes pull out in their jewel-incrusted clothes, and the croud goes nuts. The line of chariots moves fast. The District 11 trubutes roll out when Cinna comes forth with a lit torch.

"Here we go then." He says. Before either of us can move, he lights us on fire, but no burning comes. He stands in front of us and lights our headgear, and sighs with relief. "It works." He says. _You didn't test it before?!_ I say to myself, almost letting it slip out of my mouth. Cinna takes Katniss by the chin and looks strait in her eyes. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" He says, and climbs off just as we start moving into the streets. He must have forgot somthing, because he tries to yell somthing at us, but the music drowns out his voice.

"What's he saying?" Katniss asks.

"I think he said for us to hold hands." I tell her. I'm not sure that's what he told us, but it's worth a shot. I take her hand and entertwine it with mine. We look at Cinna for an answer, and he gives a thumbs up. As soon as we're visible, the crowd's roar turns to a scream, and start chanting 'District Twelve'! I look over at Katniss, who's completely beautiful and breathtaking in her flickering firelight. I look up and find that I, too, am stunning. People in the crowd throw flowers at us, making it rain different colors. That's when I notice my hand, the one Katniss is holding, is numb. But I don't care. I'd fall out without her. The crowd starts chanting her name, and she catches a rose and blows a kiss in the direction from where it came. She then looks down at our hands and loosens her grip.

"No, don't let go of me." I demand. "Please. I might fall out of this thing."

"Okay." She says softly. That's a relief. The chariots come to a halt, and the music ends. President Snow, who has white hair and is thin, gives his welcome speech. They usually show all the tributes on the big screens during this speech, but don't seem to be making an effort to move off of our flames. The anthem plays, and we circle back towards the Training Center. The doors close behind us and our prep teams swarm us, talking nonstop about our preformence. Portia and Cinna come over and help us down, remove our headresses and capes, and Portia goes to extinguish them. The other trubutes are giving us cruel, mean looks. Which only means we were the stars of the cerimonies, outshone them. Katniss lets go of my had and I rub some feeling back into it.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting shaky there." I tell her.

"It didn't show." She says. "I'm sure no one noticed."

"I'm sure no one noticed anything but you. You should wear flames more often. They suit you." I say, and I mean every word. She was spectacular. I give her a reasuring smile, and she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. Right on top of my bruise. This makes me wince, but smile widely at the same time.

** So, what's all y'alls thoughts on the prep team & stylist scenes? Is it okay? Please review! It doesn't take but a minute. :) Please let me know if you like it! (: The first review for this chapter will get a shoutout! :D So please leave your thoughts! ^_^ Loaf you readers:)  
~Katelyn**


	6. Chapter 6: The Avox

**I'd like to give a shoutout to one of the awesome guest readers for being the first to review chapter 5! :)**

And Cunita, I know. . . I'm working on that. I just joined a few days ago, so I'm still learning how to use everything... When I do figure out the Beta Reader, I WILL use it. Promise. For now. . . Just bear with me:)  
And thank you for all the kind words in your reviews, guys! (: Please keep reviewing, good or bad, and I'll keep writing the story if y'all keep reading! :D  
~Katelyn

Effie leads us into the part of the Training Center where us tributes will be staying until the actual Games begin. She says each pair of tributes gets their own floor. So we get the top floor to ourselves. We just have to press the number 12 in the wall of buttons. Easy. I ask Effie how long she will be around takng us places, and she takes on an offenced face, but says she will be with us until we leave for the arena. Fantastic. Effie is talking nonstop. She's so happy, probably exstatic to have a pair of tributes who actually left an impression at the cerimonies. Now she's rambling about getting us sponsors.

"I've been mysterious, though," She goes on. "Because, of coarse, Haymitch hasn't bothered to tell me your stratigies. But I've been doing my best with what I had to work with. How Katniss sacrificed herself for her sister. How you've both struggled to overcome the barbarism of your district." What? Barbarism? What on earth is that supposed to mean?  
"Everyone has their reservations, natrually." She continues. I try to tune her out, but she's talking so fast it's hard not to try and find out what she's saying. "You being from the coal district. But I said, and this was very clever of me, I said, 'Well, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls!'" She exclaims. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It would turns to coal dust if you put enough pressure on it. But she seems so proud of herself, so Katniss and I just go with it.  
"Unfortionately, I can't seal the sponsor deals for you. Only Haymitch can do that." She says sadly. "But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if nessisary." I raise my eyebrows when she says this. She's determened to keep Haymitch in line. _Ha, good luck wth that, Effie. _I think to myself. But I can only wonder if she can do it. Katniss gets shown her room and we walk down the hall to mine. I walk in and freeze at the sight. The place is three times the size of our bakery at home. A bg bed, several dressers, nightstands, a table, chairs, a bathroom a forth the size of the room, and a walk-in closet. The shower in the bathroom has so many buttons you might thnk it's the control panel in a hovercraft, which I've only seen pictures of. I decide to try it out later.  
I walk over to the walk-in closet and get a pair of normal clothes, and strip myself of the jumpsuit. There isn't much to do in here, so I try to take a nap. I lay there for about what I guess to be twenty minutes, but no fatigue grabs hold of my body. So I get up and try walking around. I walk down the hallway and turn a corner, and run into Cinna. Literally.

"Oh! Sorry, Cinna! I didn't see you." I exclaim. He turns and smiles.

"That's alright, Peeta. What are you doing walking around?" He asks.

"I had nothing to do. I got bored." I say sheepishly, and he chuckles.

"Alright. . . I know. Do you want to see the roof, Peeta?" He asks me. There's a roof? _Peeta! Of coarse there's a roof! Every building has one, stupid!_

"I didn't even know we could go onto the roof. Sure." I reply. "

Good. Follow me." He says, waving me forward. He walks down the hall with my room, and turns the corner. There's nothing down it's hallway but a green door. He walks down the hall and opens the door revealing a staircase that must lead to the roof. We reach the top of the stairs and my jaw drops. The sight is amazing, you can almost see the whole tall buildings, the cars on the streets, the people going about their day, and the big fountain in the square. The square isn't very close to the Trainng Center, but it's big enough to see from where we are. Cinna looks over and smiles.

"Like what you see?" He asks. I guess I haven't closed my mouth yet. So I do before I answer.

"Yes. It's. . . Wow." I stammer. It is breathtaking, but it also makes me think of home. The Capitol has so much, while the districts have so little. it makes me wrinkle my nose and knit my eyebrows together. Cinna notices.

"We dispise you too, don't we? All of us who live here." I look over and find him watching me. But he's right. They do. It's not right to leave us to starve like they do. It's horrible.

"Maybe a little. But you had said someone else does, too." I say. But I know who he means right as he says it.

"Yes. Katniss doesn't like us, either." He says. "I'm not surprised. I understand why you think so." Is it just me, or was there resentment in his voice? I shake off the thought and peer off the side of the bulding.

"Why do they let us up here, Cinna? Aren't they worried that one of the twenty-four of us might come up here and jump off the side? Commit suicide?" I ask. Now that I have, I'm more curious. Because it's happened with a girl from distrct 8 before. Long in the past, but they tell about t in school. But how do they keep it from happening?

"You can't. After that one incident, they put a force field around it. If you try you'll just be thrown back on." He says. So, I stick my hand out, and sure enough, theres a zap, and my hand is flung back to my side.

"Oh. . ." I whisper. He gives a half smile.

"Come with me. I'll show you the garden." He says. I follow him to a windchime infested place filled with potted trees and beds of bright flowers. The windchimes are constantly clanking together bacause the wind is so strong. And loud. With the two roaring, it would be hard to have a convosation without yelling.

"Do you like it?" Cinna asks, raising his voice so I can hear him.

"Yeah! It's nice!" I shout back. We just sit there, lookng at the garden for awhile. Mainly because it's too loud to talk. But at one point Cinna looks at his watch.

"Peeta! We need to leave. Effie will want us to head to dinner." I nod and we head for the door. We walk down to the dining room in silence. Niether of us knowing what to say. But when we reach our destination, Portia breaks it.

"Oh, hello! Effie just left to collect you, Peeta! And Cinna, I was actually just about to contact you." She says.

"Well, you don't have to now. Cause here we are!" I say, smiling. She smiles.

"Good. Come look over the balcony! It's really pretty at twilight." She says.

"Fantastic." Cinna says. We follow Portia onto the balcony. She wasn't kidding. But even though it's a whole new view and light, it still makes me want to wrinkle my nose. We stand outside, admiring the city, till Effie taps on the glass doors for us to come in. We start heading for the doors when Cinna stops and looks at me.

"What?" I ask cautously.

"I have one question for you, Peeta." He says. "What did you really think of the opening cerimonies costumes?" Uh, oh. My thought might make Cinna and Portia upset, who now has joined him in watching me.

"I. . . Um. . . Well, I thought we were going to be turned into tributes roasting on an open chariot. Yeah." Cinna smiles, and Portia starts laughing.

"I thought so." Cinna says. "Let's go in and eat, shall we?"  
So we walk in and take our seats.

"Haymitch is going to be eating with us tonight. Isn't that lovely?" Portia asks.

"Oh?" I say. "Well, that's good." A server comes and offers us all wine, I turn it down, but Katniss doesn't, which I find strange. They've just begun to set out the meal when Haymitch walks in. I raise my eyebrows at the sight of hm. He looks clean, probably because he showered and actually put on clean clothes. He takes his place and starts on a bowl of Mushroom Soup. First time he's eaten since I met him, too. As we eat, I try to tune them out, but they keep bringing me into the convosation. I'm not completely in it until they start talking about the opening cerimonies. We're talking about the costumes when another server brings out a cake and lights it on fire. It burns then dies, then Katniss speaks.

"What makes it burn? Is it alchohol?" She asks the server. "That's the last thing I wa- Oh! I know you!" We all turn and stae at her, as she studies our server, before she rushes away.

"Don't be rediculous, Katnss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" Effie hisses. "The very thought." She turns and looks at us, now aware of our staring.

"What's an Avox?" She asks.

"Someone who has commited a crime. They cut her tounge so she can't speak. She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her." Haymitch says.

"And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order." Effie says. "Of coarse, you don't really know her." I see Katniss' face go pale. She knows that Avox.

"No, I guess not, I just-" She's starting to stammer, and I get an idea. I snap my fingers to bring the attention to me.

"Delly Cartwrght. That's who it is. I keep thinking she looks familiar as well. Then I realized she's a dead ringer for Delly." I say. Katniss looks relieved and takes the help.

"Of coarse, that's who I was thinking of. It must be the hair." She says.

"Somthing about the eyes, too." I continue. The energy at the table eases.

"Oh, well. If that's all it is." Cinna says. "And yes. The cake has spirits, but all the alchohol has burned off. I ordered it specially in honor of your fiery debut."

So we eat our cake till we can't hold any more and head into another room to watch the re-run of the opening cerimones. All the districts were okay, a few really stood out lke 2 and 4, but none of them were as captivating as we were.

"Whose idea was the hand holding?" Haymitch asks.

"Cinna's." Portia replies.

"Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice." What? Rebellion? It takes a few moments, but I slowly start to realize what he ment.

"Tomorrow morning is your frst training session." Haymitch tells Katnss and I. "Meet me for breakfast and 'll tell you exactly how I want you to play it. Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk."

Katniss and walk, wordless, to our rooms. When we reach hers, I lean across the doorway, making her pay attention to me.

"So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." I say, hopng she'll explain what exactly happened at dnner tonght. Her face goes pale, and I immediatly know what she needs.  
"Have you been to the roof yet?" She shakes her head. I already knew she hasn't.  
"Cinna showed me. You can practically see the whole city. The wind's a bit loud, though."

"Can we just go up?" She asks.

"Sure, come on." I lead her down the hallway to the rooftop door and walk up the stairs. We step out onto the roof and I hear Katniss catch her breath. I smile and lead her over to the railng at the edge, and the first thing she does is look down.

"I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right off the side?" I tell Katniss.

"What'd he say?" She asks curiously.

"You can't." I stick my hand over the edge and there's the sharp zap, and it flies back. "Some kind of force field throws you back on the roof." I reply.

"Always worried about our safty." She says, annoyed. "Do you think they're watching us now?" She asks me.

"Maybe." I sigh. "Come see the garden." I take her to the other side of the rooftop to the garden, and find that it's still tinkling with the wind and windchimes. Good. I turn and face her and stare straight nto her Seam grey eyes. _Her beautiful Seam grey eyes... Peeta! Pay attention! _She looks at a blossomed flower and starts to whisper.

"We were in the woods one day. Hidden, waiting for game."

"You and your father?" I whisper back.

"No, my friend Gale. Suddenly all the birds stopped singing at once. Except one. As if it were giving a warning call. And then I saw her. I'm sure it was the same girl. A boy was with her. Their clothes were tattered. They had dark circles under their eyes from no sleep. They were running as if ther lives depended on it." She pauses for a mnute before she continues. "The hovercraft appeared out of nowhere. I mean, one moment the sky was empty and the next it was there. It didn't make a sound, but they saw it. A net dropped down on the girl and carried her up, fast, so fast lke the elevator. They shot some spear through the boy. It was attached to a cable and they carried him up as well. But I was certain he was dead. We heard the girl scream once. The boy's name, I think. Then it was gone, the hovercraft. Vanished into thin air. And the birds began to sing again, as if nothing had happened."

"Did they see you?" I ask her.

"I don't know, we were under a shelf of rock." She says. After a moment of silence, I notice she's shaking. The tempreture has dropped.

"You're shivering." I say, and remove my jacket then drape it over her shoulders. "They were from here?" I ask, as I clip a button at her neck. She nods. "Where do you suppose they were going?" I ask.

"I don't know that." She replies. Another short silence.

"I'd leave here." I blurt. I realize this was a bad thing to say, especially here. So I look around to make sure no one else it here. Then I just laugh. "I'd go home now if they let me. But you have to admit, the food's prime." I say, if anyone did hear me, that should throw them off. "It's getting chilly. We better go in."

We walk in and are immediately consumed with warmth. I decide to keep up a conversation.

"Your friend Gale. He was the one who took your sister away at the reaping?" I ask her.

"Yes." She says. "Do you know him?"

"Not really. I hear the girls talk about him a lot. I thought he was your cousin or somthing. You favor each other."

"No, we're not related." I nod.

"Did he come to say goodbye to you?"

"Yes." She says cautously. "So did your father. He brought me cookies." I raise my eyebrows. My father? Why? _He feels bad for her since she's the one who feeds them, _I think. _That must be it. _

"Really? Well, he likes you and your sister. I think he wishes he had a daughter instead of a houseful of boys." I pause. "He knew your mom when they were kids." I tell her.

"Oh, yes. She grew up n town." She says. We reach her door and she hands me my jacket back. "See you in the morning, then." She tells me.

"See you." I say, and walk to my own room. I enter and lean on the door. After a moment, I sigh and walk nto the bathroom, stoppng n front of the shower. I had forgotten about all those buttons. _I'll try it in the morning,_ I say to myself. So I just strip off my clothes and pull on some pijamas from one of the dressers, and climb into the big bed. I sigh again as all that just happened runs through my brain._ Tomorrow is going to be a long day, _I think, and drift off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7: Training

As the world comes back into focus, I'm aware of a patch of happiness inside me, and I have a feeling Katniss has something to do with it. I shouldn't be this happy, but I am. I sit up with a smile on my face notice that, out the window, the sun is just peeking over the horizon. Lighting the sky an array of pinks, yellows, oranges, purples, and blues. The sight of the sky makes my smile grow wider. _I wish I could paint that_, I think. I love to paint. I love creating the frosting designs on the fluffy cakes in the bakery. The flowers, the autumn leaves, the light bouncing off the ponds I sometimes make. _But I'll never be able to paint again. . . No, Peeta. Don't think about that. Don't let it ruin your day before it's even started. _I force the thoughts out of my mind, and get out of bed. I walk into the bathroom and find the button that controls the water. I peel off my nightclothes and step into the stream of steaming water. I let the water soak my hair then run my fingers through it.

"I love showers. . ." I mutter. I turn and face the wall of buttons and try to find out which ones are for what. I press a random button and a pair of massage sponges come out of nowhere. Before I can react, the sponges come in contact with my shoulders and a sound of pleasure escapes my lips. I press another random button and shampoo coats my head. I work it in and rinse it out, and press one more button. A cinnamon scented oil drizzles out and stains my hair with it's smell. I take a deep breath and sigh. The oil has made the floor slippery, and I place my feet on a spot with the stuff and slide backwards, my back slamming into the buttons. Then the shower goes biserk. Shampoos and oils spill everywhere, dozens of sponges come after me, and streams of burning hot and icy cold water attack me. So I get out.

I step onto the bathmat and an unexpected blast of hot air dries me from head to toe. I put on a robe that hangs on the back of the door, and walk into my room to find a pair of clothes waiting for me. Must be my training outfit. So I drop the robe and pull on the training clothes. I walk to my door and open it, and find Haymitch standing right outside, hand positioned to knock.

"Oh. Good, You're up. Breakfast time. Let's go." He says.

"Great. I'm starved!" I reply. So head to the dining room, not talking. Haymitch seems really serious today. Who knows? Maybe he's actually trying to stay sober for us. What other reason could there be? We enter, and Katniss is already here with her plate of food. We say good morning, and Haymitch and I walk over and fill our own plates before joining her at the table. Katniss is frowning at me because we're dressed alike. But won't all the districts be? I shake it off and take a bite of my eggs, when training pops into my head. Three days as a group and then a private session with the Gamemakers. My hands start to sweat at the thought of the private sessions. What can I do? Nothing. And that's going to be a problem. Haymitch pushes back his plate with a sigh and takes a long swig from his flask before he talks.

"So, let's get down to business. Training. First off, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now."

"Why would you coach us separately?" Katniss asks.

"Say if you had a secret skill you might not want the other to kbow about." He says. Katniss and I look at each other, debating this. I can't do anything. So I can't exactly contribute to that category either, can I?

"I don't have any secret skills." I tell Haymitch. "And I already know what yours is, right?" I say, looking at Katniss. "I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels." She gives me a surprised look before turning back to Haymitch.

"You can coach is together." She says. I nod in agreement.

"All right, give me an idea of what you can do." He says. This should be humiliating.

"I can't do anything." I say. "Unless you count baking bread."

"Sorry, I don't. Katniss. I already know you're handy with a knife." Haymitch says.

"Not really. But I can hunt, with a bow and arrows."

"And you're good?" She's silent for a moment before answering.

"I'm all right." She says. Okay. She's not giving herself enough credit! She's a natural, she's really going to doubt her skills? No, I've seen what she can do, I won't let her do that.

"She's excellent." I say. "My father buys her squirrels. He always comments on how the arrow never pierces the body. She hit's every one in the eye. It's the same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She can even bring down deer." Katniss gives me another surprised look, but it's quickly replaced with suspition.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"What are you doing? If he's going to help you he has to know what you're capable of. Don't underrate yourself." And it's true. She is. And I won't stand for it.

"What about you? I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour." She snaps. Is she actually getting angry at me? "Tell him that. That's not nothing." It is nothing. It's no bow and arrow, not even close!

"Yes, and I'm sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people. It's not like being able to use a weapon. You know it isn't." I snap back. Is she really getting mad because I'm saying what she can really do?

"He can wrestle." She tells Haymitch. "He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother." Really? That's not going to be of any use in the arena.

"What use is that?" I ask. "How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?"

"There's always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped I'm dead!" She's starting to yell. Is she really turning this into an argument?

"But you won't! You'll be up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking people off with arrows! You know what my mother said to me when she came to say goodbye, as if to cheer me up, she says District Twelve might finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn't mean me, she ment you!" I shout at her. Katniss just stares at me for a moment. I have to force myself not to tear up at the memory.

"Oh, she ment you." She says, waving her hand to stop the fight. I have to tell her, can't keep it to myself anymore.

"She said 'she's a survivor, that one.' _She_ is." I say, looking her straight in the eyes. She looks at me and studies my face a moment before speaking.

"But only because someone helped me." I peel away from her gaze and focus on the roll in her hand as the memory from that day comes flooding into my mind. I just shrug and tell her the truth.

"People will help you in the arena. They'll be tripping over one another to sponsor you."

"No more than you." She tells me. I just roll my eyes. She doesn't get it, does she?

"She has no idea." I tell Haymitch. "The effect she can have." I run my finger across the table, not daring to look at her. There's a silence at the table, the after a few minutes Haymitch breaks it.

"Well, then. Well, well, well. Katniss there's no guarantee there'll be bows and arrows in the arena, but during your private session with the Gamemakers, show them what you can do. Until then, steer clear of archery. Are you any good at trapping?" He asks Katniss.

"I know a few basic snares." She replies.

"That may be significant in terms of food." He turns to me. "And, Peeta, she's right, never underestimate strength in the arena. Very often, physical power tilts the advantage to a player. In the Training Center, they will have weights, but don't show how much you can lift in front of the other tributes. The plan's the same for both of you. You go to group training. Spend the time trying to learn something you don't know. Throw a spear. Swing a mace. Learn to tie a decent knot. Save what you're best at for your private sessions. Are we clear?" Haymitch asks. Katniss and I both nod. "One last thing. In public, I want you by each other's side every minute." He says. Katniss and I start to argue, but he slams his and down on the table, cutting us off. "Every minute! It's not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training."

I reach my room and shut the door. Right as I do, I hear Katniss' door slam behind her. _Very mature, Katniss. _I think. I flop on my bed and go through what just happened. Haymitch had said to be by each other's side every minute.. _But will that work now? With what just happened?_ I think this over and over, wondering how the rest of today will play itself out, until I notice it's ten till ten. I go into the bathroom and brush my hair and teeth, then start towards the elevator. We ride all the way under ground level, where the Training Room is built. Who knows why.

The doors pry themselves open and find a whole ton of different stations. Swordplay, knife throwing, climbing, knot-tying, camoflauge, and a lot more. But we're also the last ones here, even though we're right on time. Someone comes to pin the number 12 on my back and I notice none of the other tributes are dressed alike. We reach the circle of competitors and the head trainer, she says her name is Atala, begins her training speech. As she speaks, I observe the tributes from the other districts. All the guys are stocky-built, and a good portion of the girls, too. Atala releases us to train and Katniss is lost in thought. I go over to her and nudge her arm, and she jumps.

"Where would you like to start?" I ask her. She scowers the gym.

"Suppose we tie some knots." She answers.

"Right you are." I reply, and we head over. The instructor seems happy we came over. The tributes probably think knot-tying isn't important in the Games. Go figure. I'm sweating over a snare I watch Katniss do as she flies through several others before I finish mine. Then the trainer shows us a trap that makes someone hang upside down from their ankle from a tree branch. We work on that till we've got it down, and walk over to the camoflauge station. I smile as I start to work with the juices and mud and clay to blend my arm into something like leaves, and the trainer gawks at me as I work.

"I do the cakes." I admit to Katniss.

"The cakes? What cakes?" She asks.

"The ones for the bakery." I reply. She leans in closer to get a better look at my arm.

"It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death." She says sarcastically.

"Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena." I pause, and a smile creeps it's way onto my face. "Say it's actually a gigantic cake-" Before I can finish, she cuts me off.

"Say we move on?" She says.

The next few days pass, and we do learn some new things. Like throwing knives and starting fires. Katniss easily passes the edible plants test and, despite Haymitch, I master the hand-to-hand combat course. The Gamemakers watch us from their stands sometimes, but not often. All twenty-four of us eat lunch together, but not all at one table. The Careers, what we call the pack of kids from the richer districts, sit together. And pretty much everyone else sits alone. Katniss and I try to keep up a friendly conversation going, but it's hard to find something to talk about that won't upset us. One day I start talking about bread, emptying our basket and saying different things about each one. Like the cresent with the seeds from 11, and the loaf with seaweed from 4.

"And there you have it." I say, putting the breads back.

"You certainly know a lot." She says.

"Only about bread. Okay, now laugh as if I've said something funny." I tell her. We both laugh and some of the other tributes stare at us. "All right, I'll keep smiling pleasantly and you talk." I say. It's getting tiring, playing friendly in front of everyone else. I can tell Katniss thinks so, too.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was chased by a bear?" She asks me.

"No, but it sounds fascinating. " I reply. So she tells the story, making faces when nessisary, and I ask questions and laugh. The rest of the day passes and the next one comes around. Katniss and I are chucking spears when I notice the twelve year old from District 11 watching us.

"I think we have a shadow." I whisper to Katniss. She tosses her spear and catches a glimpse of her. "I think her name's Rue." I say softly. She bends down to pick up another spear and I chuck mine.

"What can we do about it?" She asks, her tone slightly rude.

"Nothing to do. Just making conversation." I say.

Back at the dining room, Haymitch and Effie press us about training at every meal. We get away from the table the second night after dinner and I try to start a real conversation.

"Someone ought to get Haymitch a drink." I mumble. Katniss smirks, or laughs, one of the two, but stops herself.

"Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around." She says. She thought I was pretending? Not a surprise.

"All right, Katniss." I say. After lunch the next day they start calling us into our private sessions with the Gamemakers. Soon Katniss and I are the only ones left, and we sit in silence. They call my name and I get up to go in, but Katniss' voice stops me.

"Remember what Haymitch said about being sure to throw the weights." She says.

"Thanks, I will. You. . . Shoot straight." She nods, and I walk in. I get to the spot in front of the Gamemakers, and I immediately know this will be a waste of time. They aren't watching for me, they're singing some song. And I know I'll have to speak up. "Peeta Mellark, District 12." I say, my voice raised. A few of them turn, but not a lot. I sigh. _Well, better than no one at all._ I think. I walk over to the weights and my eyes fall to the rows of weights. _Okay, Peeta. Start with the lighter ones then work your way up._ I grab hold of a 100 pound ball, get a good grip, and hurl it as far as I can. It lands on the ground with a loud thud about 25-30 yards in front of me. I smile and pick up a 150 pond ball, and hurl it 20 yards in front of me. I look up at the Gamemakers, and about 4 of them are watching, nodding and talking to each other about me. I keep going higher, 50 pounds at a time, till I come across a 400 pound ball. _Come on, Peeta, you can do this._ I tell myself. I take a deep breath and grab hold of it, but before I pick it up, I look up at the Gamemakers, and for the few who are watching me, I turn the ball so they can see the weight number. Some of their eyes widen a little, others watch me intently. I slowly lift it of the ground, an inch at a time, until I'm able to throw it. I spin in a circle and raise the ball, releasing it in the diresction as the others went, and, even to my surprise, lands the furthest away from me. I look up at the Gamemakers once more, the ones who were watching nodding, chatting about my preformence.

"Alright, Peeta. You are dismissed. Good Job"

I sigh with a nod and walk out, wondering how low a score I will get.

**So, do you like it? Hate it? Please please please leave me your thoughts in a review. Thank you to the 5 of you who have left me reviews... Good or bad, or just a comment about somthing. I really wanna know what you have to say! :)  
Loaf you guys, and thank you for reading! ~Katelyn**


	8. Chapter 8: The Scores

I stalk back to my room and quietly close the door behind me. I just stand at the door, my hand tightly wrapped around the knob, eyes fixated on the ground in front of me, eyebrows creased in endless thought. When did the Gamemakers stop paying attention? District 5? District 6? It doesn't matter. My score won't be higher than a four, at most. Even though a couple of them were watching, the majority of them were singing some kind of drinking song. They're supposed to be watching what we can do! Not getting drunk and singing songs! I look down at my hand, which is still on the doorknob, is white and going numb from clenching my fists in frustration. I release my grip and rub my hand while I walk to my bed. I sit on the edge and watch the time tick by, still deep in thought. _The Gamemakers are ridiculous. _I think. _I hope Katniss got more attention than I did._ But with how they were when I left, I seriously doubt it. That thought makes my frustration overflow and I slam my hands on the bed, then run my fingers through my hair. I calm myself down and place my face in my hands. There's a knock at my door after about five minutes of just sitting with my face burrowed. I get up and open it, and Effie and Haymitch burst into my room.

"What the-?"

"What happened at your private session? We just tried to talk to Katniss, but she was crying and screaming at us to leave. So, what's the situation with you?" Haymitch demands. _I don't want to talk about this right now! _I think.

"Can we please not talk about this now? Can it wait till dinner? I'm really not up to it. . ." I pause. I have to tell someone. . . "They didn't pay any attention to me!" Haymitch and Effie exchange a glance and Haymitch sighs.

"I thought so. Never really do. They always get bored after District 4. What was the most you lifted?" He asks.

"400 Pounds." I reply. Effie's mouth slightly opens and Haymitch raises his eyebrows.

"Well, then. Didn't know you could lift so much. Well, that's all. We'll talk more about it later. I'll come get you for dinner in about 2 hours."

"Okay." They walk out and I close the door behind them, processing what Haymitch said. 'I thought so. Never really do. They always get bored after District 4.' _But I can't do anything about it. _I think. I go back to my bed and lie down, not wanting to do anything. Eat, sleep, watch the scores, most of all be pressed by Effie and Haymitch while we eat. I stare at the ceiling until there's a knock on my door. Oh, yay. Time for dinner. Haymitch walks me to the dining room where we find Portia and Cinna at the table, waiting for us. Effie comes in shortly after, followed by Katniss. The Avox bring us fish soup, which is very salty. Katniss eats hers in tiny spoonfuls at a time, and I notice how puffy and red her face is. Her eyes meet mine, and I raise my eyebrows, hoping she'll give a hint of what happened in her session. She just gives a slight shake of her head. _I don't want to talk about it. _Just as the main course is laid out, Haymitch speaks to us.

"Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?" Yep. Just what I didn't want to talk about. But might as well just tell the truth.

"I don't know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go." Haymitch nods and looks at Katniss.

"And you, sweatheart?" He asks. I can see her eyes grow dark at the name 'sweatheart'.

"I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers." She says. Everyone stops eating and stares at her.

"You what?" Effie shrieks, clearly mortified.

"I shot an arrow at them" She says. "Not exactly at them. In their direction. It's like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just. . . I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!" She says defiantly.

"And what did they say?" Cinna asks cautiously.

"Nothing. Or I don't know, I walked out after that." She says.

"Without being dismissed?" Effie gasps.

"I dismissed myself." She replies.

"Well, that's that." Haymitch says, and he starts to butter his roll. She shot an arrow at the Gamemakers? Wow. _Way to go, Katniss!_ I think to myself. _That ought to teach them to pay attention!_

"Do you think they'll arrest me?" She asks.

"Doubt it." Haymitch says. "Be a pain to replace you at this stage."

"What about my family? Will they punish them?"

"Don't think so. Wouldn't make much sense. See, they'd have to reveal what happened in the Training Center for it to have any worthwhile effect on the population. People would need to know what you did. But they can't since it's a secret, so it'd be a waste of effort." Haymitch says. "Most likely they'll make your life hell in the arena."

"Well, they've already planned to do that to us anyway." I say. The thought that they can make it worse makes me shudder.

"Very true." Haymitch confirms. He reaches over and grabs a pork chop with his hands, which brings a frown to Effie's face, and dips it in his glass of wine. He tears it in half and starts to laugh a little. "What were their faces like?" He asks. A smile creeps up onto Katniss' face. I can feel one creeping up on me, too.

"Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them." She says. She cocks her head slightly to the right, as if remembering something. "One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch." Haymitch begins to laugh, and I join in. Soon everyone is, except Effie, who just smiles.

"Well, serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you're from District 12 is no excuse to ignore you." She looks around like she said something that could get her in trouble. "I'm sorry, but that's what I think." Effie says. I scrunch my eyebrows together, wondering who she could be talking to, because she just spat it out to no one in particular.

"I'll get a very bad score." Katniss says.

"Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy." Portia says.

"I hope that's how people interpret the four I'll probably get." I say. "If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards. One almost landed on my foot." And one almost did. I almost dropped the 400 pound ball. Katniss gives me a huge smile and plows into her food. After we're finished eating we head into another room to watch the Training scores. They'll show a photo of the tribute, then the number. The Careers get eights, nines, and tens. No surprise there. The other districts get a five or lower, higher if they're lucky. 12 Year old Rue from 11 gets a 7. Wow. 12 is last, like always, and they show my picture. _Come on, come on!_ An eight shows itself on the screen. _An eight! I got an eight! _Then they show Katniss' face. To be honest, I'm worried about her. But then the number eleven pops on the screen, and Effie squeals. I gawk at the number. Eleven? Maybe I should have tosses a weight at the Gamemakers. . .

"There must be a mistake. How. . . How could that happen?" Katniss asks Haymitch.

"Guess they liked your temper." He says. "They've got a show to put on. They need some players with some heat."

"Katniss, the girl who was on fire." Cinna says, hugging her. "Oh, wait till you see your interview dress."

"More flames?" She asks.

"Of a sort." He says mysteriously. Katniss and I congradulate each other, but it's a little akward for me. An eleven. Her eleven compared to my eight._ Hey. At least you got a decent score, Peeta. Stop complaining. _But an Idea pops into my head. I know what I'm going to do, but I'll tell Haymitch tomorrow. I walk to my room and lean on the back of my door. _I'll deal with all this tomorrow, _I think. I strip off my clothes, I'm too upset to put on pijamas, so I climb into bed in my underwear, and fall into a restless sleep

I wake up and look out the window at the beautiful sunrise. I confirm my decision and get ready for breakfast. I make my way to the dining room and find only Haymitch. He looks at me and waves me over. I sit across from him and decide to wait till Effie comes in to break out my news. She walks in about five minutes later and sits next to Haymitch.

"Okay, I have some news. More of a request, really." I say.

"Oh, do you? And what would that be?" He asks. Effie looks at me along with him waiting for an answer.

"Well, I. . . Um. . . In recent terms of events. . . . . I'd ... I'd like to be coached... Separately."

**Please review! I'm almost finished writing chapter 9 and I need to know if you like it!:3 It seriously helps to hve your thoughts! At least 2 reviews for me to post the next chapter to know some people are reading it.. :3 The interviews are next, then the rooftop scene, then THE GAMES BEGIN! I'm really excited to write the Games, so hurry an review! :) 3  
~Katelyn**


	9. Chapter 9: The Interviews

**Hey guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to update! I JUST got it typed onto the computer! I really hope you like it cause I've worked ****REALLY**** hard on it! So please please please leave a review after you read! It helps so much! :) Plus I'll give shoutouts to anyone who reviews from now on:) So read, review, and enjoy! :D  
~Katelyn**

**_I do not own any of the characters or the idea of the story. All rights go to Suzanne Collins! :)_******

They just stare at me, not saying anything. After a couple of minutes of this, I start to get uncomfortable.

"Umm. . . Haymitch? Effie?" I ask.

"Are you sure, Peeta?" Effie asks, her tone just above a whisper. "I mean, you two have been doing so well!"

"Have you thought this through, Peeta?" Haymitch chimes in.

"Yes, I have. I need to make an impression, too. But I can't do that with Katniss by my side all the time." I say. She has all the attention right now. I'm not mad, but if I'm to stand a chance, I've got to take a step up.

"You're one hundred percent sure? You don't want to talk about it at all?" Effie asks again.

"Yes, Effie, I'm sure. I need to do this." I reply. They exchange a look, and they both sigh.

"Alright, Peeta. After breakfast, we'll start." Haymitch says. Katniss plops in the chair next to me with her food, and we all stop talking. She's about halfway through her stew and rice when she takes notice of the silence.

"So, what's going on? You're coaching us on the interviews today, right?" She asks.

"That's right." Haymitch answers.

"You don't have to wait until I'm done. I can listen and eat at the same time." She says.

"Well, there's been a change of plans. About our current approach." He says.

"What's that?" She asks. Haymitch looks at me, then back at Katniss, and shrugs.

"Peeta has asked to be coached separately." Haymitch replies. I can see her eyes grow wide, then narrow and go dark. She's not happy about this.

"Good." She says. "So what's the schedule?"

"You'll each have four hours with Effie for presentation and four hours with me for content." Haymitch says. "You start with Effie, Katniss."

We finish eating and Haymitch takes me into the room where we watched all the recaps and tells me to sit. So I do, and he just watches me, one arm crossed holding his elbow, the hand on the other on his chin. He watches me for five minutes then starts to circle me. And I'm getting a little uncomfortable.

"Uhh, Haymitch? What are you doing?" I ask curiously.

"Every tribute has a trait at the interviews. Some are sarcastic, or clever. Some go in the opposite direction and are sexy or fierce. You? I don't know what you are yet." He replies. "So. What are you like? What are your talents? I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer. Pretend I'm Caesar Flickerman, and across the room is the audience. Future sponsors. Got it, Peeta?" I stare at him, prossesing this. _Okay, Peeta. You heard him. Caesar Flickerman. Audience. Possible sponsors. Got it._

"Alright." I say. He pulls up a chair in front of me and starts asking me questions, and I answer honestly. What are my hobbies? Baking and painting. What do I think of the other tributes? I just start comparing them to the breads from their districts, which makes Haymitch smile. About five more minutes of this then he jumps out of his seat.

"That's it!" He exclaims.

"What's it?" I ask.

"Your appearance! I have it!"

"Okay. What is it?"

"Likeable, and charming. But more likeable. You just have this vibe. It makes me like you, no matter how much I despise you."

"Well. . . That's good to know. Thanks."

"No problem. Oh! I forgot to ask you a possible question."

"And what would that be, Haymitch?" I ask. He sits back down and pretends to be Caeser again.

"Is there a special girl back home?" Haymitch says, mimicking Caeser's voice. I can feel my face growing hot, and turning red. I look at the ground and shake my head.

"No. No, there isn't."

"Peeta." He says, his tone makes me look at him. "You're bluffing. Who is she?" I take a deep breath and barley whisper.

"Katniss."

"Who?"

"Katniss." I say again, but a little louder. Every time I say her name my face grows hotter.

"Peeta, I can't hear you. Speak up." He says. There's annoyance in his voice.

"Katniss! Alright? It's Katniss. . ." I say, nearly shouting at him, and I slump back into my chair. He stares at me with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, dear. . ." He whispers.

"I thought you'd say something similar." I say. I purse my lips and avert my Gaze.

"My, my, my. You're in a bit of a rut, Peeta." He says.

"I know. . ." I reply. There's silence for about fifteen minutes, mainly because Haymitch is lost in thought. Wait. . . Maybe if I use it in the interviews. . I could get sponsors. . . "Haymitch, I have an idea." He looks up at me.

"And that would be. . .?" He asks.

"Maybe telling that I have a crush on Katniss at the interviews might help me get sponsors." I reply. He takes this under consideration for awhile, then starts nodding.

"The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve. Yes. That might work. . ."

"Wait, what? Haymitch, I didn't mean it like that! You know Katniss won-"

"I know she won't! But it might help both of you get sponsors. . . She is not to know about this. . . The less she knows, the better. Tell me when you first found out you liked her. Tell me everything."

And so I do. About the day it started, that first day of school eleven years ago, about that day with the bread, how she always caught me staring at her in the school hallways. Everything. I broke the dam and spilt the truth.

"Well. I didn't expect your feelings to be so strong. And what you did with the bread . . ." He lets out a puff of air and shakes his head, a half smile on his face.

"I did that because she was going to starve to death . . ." I say.

"Yes, but you took a beating to give it to her. You did it because you love her." He insists. Okay, maybe I did, but. . . It was never going to happen. Especially not now. Because now, every minute that passes, I'm a minute closer to my death.

"Alright, maybe, but-" Haymitch cuts me off before I can finish.

"No buts. Peeta, I don't think you need to do more than be yourself, but for her to understand how much you care for her, she's going to need a lot of convincing." He says. Convincing? No, wait. I know what he means. She won't believe it unless she sees it. So I nod."Okay. We've got about fifteen minutes before lunch, so let's head to the dining room, shall we?" He says, and waves me to the door.

We sit and talk for a while, then Katniss stomps in, wearing a gown that goes down to the floor, but she's holding it just above her knees. Effie walks in shortly after, looking somewhat agitated. We eat our lunch and she leads me into my room, and hands me a tuxedo to wear.

"Why do I have to wear this?" I ask.

"Same reason Katniss had to wear the gown. To get used to it! Now go change." She answers. I do as I'm told and put on the tux. I walk back out to Effie, who puts a huge smile on her face when she sees me. "You look ravishing!" She exclaims. "Now, to start, we're going to work on your posture."

"This should be a fun session . . ." I mumble. She holds back her annoyance and has me sit down. I take a seat in front of her and she studies me. Then she starts walking around my chair, and after a little of this, starts nodding. She continues walking around me, then after a few minutes, stops in front of me and grins.

"Well! Your posture doesn't need to be messed with. Nor your sitting. Now how about we see to hand gestures and eye contact!" She says. So she starts a random conversation and I go along, looking her strait in the eyes and moving my hands when needed. Ten minutes go by before she stops me. "Well, seems to me you have that covered, too. " She says. "Last thing is smiling." She reads me lines, and I have to repeat them. Smileing before, during, or after the phrase. _Smile, smile, smile! I swear, my face is going to peel off . . ._ I think. I'm almost certain my face has a permanent grin planted on it when Effie sighs. "You don't need wk on anything, Peeta. I think we're done here, and its only been two hours!" I let out a sigh of relief. _Thank goodness! _I think. "I'll come collect you for dinner later."

"Alright." I reply. She walks out and shuts the door behind her, and I lean on it with my head back and my eyes closed. I stay for five minutes before I flop onto my bed for a well deserved nap.

I wake a couple hours later to the sound of Haymitch rapping my door, calling me to dinner. I sigh and walk out the door, following him to the dining room. We sit down and Effie, Cinna, and Portia walk in. They take their seats and the Avoxes bring out our meal. Grilled parmasean chicken, steamed cauliflower, sweet potatoes, bread sticks, and soft drinks. I'm about halfway through my platter when I take notice of something. Katniss isn't here.

"Hey, where's Katniss?" I ask.

"Oh, dear!" Effie exclaims. "I better go get her." She gets up to leave, but Haymitch grabs her arm, which makes her let out a small shriek.

"No. Let her be. " He says. "We had a pretty rough session today." Effie stays standing for a moment, then sits down, and I nod, and turn back to my food.

"Oh, well . . . I hope she's okay." I say.

"She'll be fine." He replies. After that, we eat in silence.

I make my way back to my room and shut the door. I go over to one of the plush armchairs and slump into it. As soon as I do, the session with Haymitch tries to make it's way into my mind, but I force it away. But I can't manage for long. I give in and it plows into my train of thought all at opnce, which is a little painful. **'**_The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve. Yes. That might work.__**'**__**'**__Wait, what? Haymitch, I didn't mean it like that!__**'**__No, I didn't, that's for sure. . . _I think. **_'_**_It might help you two get sponsors.__**'**_Well. . . That's true. . ._Okay. You're going to do it. . . Hopefully this all works out. . . _I don't feel like changing, so I fall onto the bed in the dress shirt and dress pans and pass out before I can count to five.

I wake up to find my prep team watching me, looming over my head.

"Ahh!" I exclaim as I jump backwards, which sends my head into the headboard. They just start laughing their butts off. "Ow. . ." I mutter, rubbing my head. "Don't. . . Don't do that." Melanian walks over to the side of my bed and smiles.

"Sorry, Peeta. Today are the interviews! Cheer up, we're just excited!" He insists. So I give them all a half smile, and they give me one in return, but a full one. They drag me into the bathroom and go to work. Scrubbing, washing, rinsing, scrubbing, washing, rinsing. This is repeated for hours, on both my body and my hair. Portia finally walks in with a black bag, which could only be my interview outfit, and stops in front of me.

"You ready, Peeta?" She asks. I look at the bag, then back at her, and sigh.

"Yeah, I guess." I say. She smiles and unzips the bag, revealing a black silk suit with incredible red, yellow, and orange flame designs, with hints of blue. "Wow, Portia. . . " My voice trails off. It really is an incredible piece of clothing.

"Well, don't just stand there! Let's get it on you!" She exclaims. I give her a smile and she assists me while I put on the suit. She slicks back my hair and gives me a pair of shiny black dress shoes to finish the look. Portia and the prep team take a step back and look me up and down. "Perfect." Portia says. "Peeta, would you like to see?" She gestures me to a mirror and my mouth slightly opens. I look like a piece of coal slowly being consumed with flames. I turn from side to side, and when I do it looks as if the fire is moving with me.

"Whoa. . ." I mutter.

"I thought you might like it. It collides with the outfits from the opening ceremonies, in a way. So you like it?" She asks.

"It's. . . Amazing, Portia. . . Thanks." I reply. She smiles.

"Good. Now we better head to the elevator." She says, waving me out the door.

We walk to the elevator in silence and wait there for around five minutes when I hear the door at the other end of the hall open. I turn and my heart nearly stops. Katniss is wearing a red one-shoulder dress covered with gems, which claim the light and makes it look like whenever she moves she's ungulfed in fire. Her eyelashes catch the light, too. And her skin seems to be shimmering gold.

"Wow." I say under my breath. Hopefully she didn't hear me. We ride the elevators down to the interview stage, and Haymitch and Effie compliment our outfits, and praise the stylists. The doors open and the others are already being shown where to go. The twenty four tributes huge arc around the stage during the interviews, and since I'm from District Twelve, and the girl from each district goes before the boy, I'm last. Katniss and I are standing next to each other,about to walk onto the stage when Haymitch comes behind us and basically growls.

"Remember. You're still a happy pair, so act like it." I sigh once he leaves. _You better be right about the sponsors, Haymitch. . . _I think. We're led out to our seats and the interviews start. Each one lasts 3 minutes, so they're going by quickly. They boy from 2 goes up, and I can't stop thinking about how huge he is. So I miss pretty much all of his interview.

"It's an honor to represent my district." He says.

"You're a fighter?" Caesar asks.

"I'm prepared, vicious, and ready to go." He replies. I believe him, about being vicious. The rest of the interviews go by just as fast, but I catch some of the girl from eleven's. Caesar asks her what her greatest strength will be in the arena, and she answers immediately.

"I'm very hard to catch," She says. "And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out."

"I wouldn't in a million years." Caesar replies. The boy from her district is just as big as the boy from district two, and that's a problem for me. They call up Katniss, and I watch her closely as she makes her way to the seats and shakes Caesars hand.

"So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you most since you arrived here?" He asks. She scans the crowd before answering.

"The lamb stew." She says. I smile. I did notice how much she enjoyed that when it was served by the way she was shoveling through it. Caesar and the crowd laugh.

"The one with the dried plums?" He asks, and she nods. "Oh, I eat it by the bucketful!" He turns to the audience holding his stomach, with a horrified look n his face. I smile again. "It doesn't show, does it?" The crowd yells and shouts compliments at him. "Now, Katniss. When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?" He asks her. She looks out into the audience and I follow her gaze. Now I know who she's been looking at. She's using Cinna for confidence.

"You mean after I got over my fear of burning to death?" She asks. The audience cracks up. Even I chuckle.

"Yes. Start then." Caesar replies.

"I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing this, either." She lifts up the bottom of her dress and holds it out. " I mean, look at it!" The audience gawks, and I see her lock eyes with Cinna, who is twirling his finger in the air. I know what he wants her to do. She stands up and twirls once, and the audience goes nuts.

"Oh, do that again!" Caesar insists. She lifts up her arms and starts spinning, and even I stare at her in awe. She finally stops and grabs Caesar's arm. "Don't stop!" He says.

"I have to, I'm dizzy!" She says, giggling. _She's so cute. . . . . Hey! Snap out of it, Peeta!_What brings me back is Caesar wrapping his arm around Katniss' waist. I almost shout at him.

"Don't worry, I've got you. Can't have you following in your mentor's footsteps." The audience shouts as the camaras find him in the crowd, who is waving them away and pointing to Katniss, trying to bring the attention back to her interview. I turn back towards Katniss with a smile on my face just as Caesar begins to speak again.

"It's all right." He tells the audience. "She's safe with me. Now, how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint on what happened in there." She bites her lip.

"Umm. . . All I cvan say is I think it was a first." My eyes make their way to the Gamemakers, who are laughing and nodding. A huge grin plants itself on my own face.

"You're killing us." Caesar says, making it sound like he's actually in pain. "Details. Details." She looks right at the Gamemakers as she speaks.

"I'm not supposed to talk about it, right?" She asks them.

"She's not!" One of them shouts back. "Sorry, my lips are sealed." She says.

"Then let's go back to the moment they called your sister's name at the reaping. And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?" Caesar asks. I turn my full attention to Katniss, I know this is a touchy subject for her.

"Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything." She replies. The mood of the crowd just shifted, I can feel it grow serious.

"What did she say to you? After the reaping?" He asks.

"She asked me to try really hard to win." She says. The audience is silent, waiting to find out more. I take notice that I'm leaning forward in my chair, too.

"And what did you say?"

"I swore I would."

"I bet you did.," Caesar says, squeezing her hand. A buzzer goes off, indicating that her three minutes are up. "Sorry, we're out of time. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve." She walks back to her seat next to mine, and the applause continues after she sits down. They call me and I make my way onto the stage. It feels like my interview is going much faster than all the others. There's lots of shouting and laughing from the audience. They love me so far. Good. Caesar asks me what I think of the other tributes, and I start comparing them to the breads from their districts like I did with Haymitch. He then asks me what I think is different here, so we have this whole episode about the Capitol showers. With all those buttons, and the giant blow dryer, they are _very _different. To me, anyway. As we're discussing this, I take in a light scent of roses in the air, and get an idea.

"Tell me," I interrupt Caesar, "Do I smell like roses?" He gives me a somewhat quizzical look.

"Take. . . Take a whiff."

"Oh. . . Oh alright." He says, and we both lean forward enough for him to get a good whiff. The audience has a strong reaction. "Do. . . Do I? Do I smell like roses?" He asks me, so now it's my turn to sniff. He asks me if I have a girlfriend back in District Twelve, and dispite my idea, I panic and shake my head no.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be a special girl. Come on, what's her name?" Caesar insists. _Come on, Peeta, _I tell myself, _now or never! Come on!_ I sigh.

"Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping." I tell him. "She have another fellow?" He asks.

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her."

"So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?"

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning. . . Won't help in my case."

"Why ever not?" Caesar asks curiously. _Just say it!_ I can feel myself going red. _Come on, say it! Just a few simple words!_

"Because. . ." I start to stammer. _Come on! You're almost there! _"Because. . ." _Come on, Peeta!Just five more words! It's not that hard! Just say it!_ "She came here with me." I feel as if a million pounds has been lifted off my shoulders. I look down at the floor, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes.

"Oh, that is a piece of bad luck." Caesar tells me. It sounds like he really is sorry for me.

"It's not good." I agree with him.

"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady. She didn't know?" He asks.

"Not until now." I reply, shaking my head. "Wouldn't you love to bring her back out here to get a response?" He asks the crowd. They start going nuts. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours."


	10. Chapter 10: Let The Games Begin!

**Hey guys! I'm not getting any reviews(Sad face:( ), but I really hope you like the story so far! Please leave your reviews after you read and enjoy! And again, sorry for any misspellings:3 :D  
~Katelyn**

The cheering from the audience is so loud I can't hear myself think. I wish I could crawl in a hole and hide right now. I let my gaze fall on Katniss and find her blushing. I look back at the crowd as they're settling down. I don't think I can speak anymore, but I have to say something. . ._ Say something. . . _"Thank you." I choke out. But even that was quiet and muffled. I make my way back to my own seat, but stay standing for the anthem. I break my gaze from the floor to find that every camera is trained on Katniss and I. In most of the viewer's heads, they'll be feeling sorry for us. But to others, it's just a stratigy I thought up, and that worries me. I take a deep breath as the anthem ends. The tributes make their way back to the Training Center and onto the elevators. I notice Katniss moves away to another elevator to avoid me. All of a sudden, I start to panic. _Why did I do that? What is she going to say? Or do? What if she hates me? What if she tries to kill me right after we step off our plates? What if- HEY! Calm down. Just calm down, Peeta. She's just in shock. . . Needs to think. . . It'll be fine. . . _I take another deep breath as the elevator doors close. We start moving upwards, and the hairs on the back of my neck start to stand up. I turn my head a little to find the boy from District Two watching me. I swallow and take a small step away from him, which makes a smile creep up onto his face. I'm finally left alone after the tributes from District Seven dispatch to their floor, and I relax. The elevator finally stops at the twelfth and the doors open. I step out, and Katniss slams her hands into my chest. My foot slips and I fall backwards into an urn with fake flowers in it. It tips and shatters all over the floor, and I fall into the shards. Instinctively, I use my hands to try and break the impact, but it earns me pottery shards stabbing my palms and fingers. I start bleeding as soon as I hit the ground.

"What was that for?" I ask her in shock.

"You had no right! No right to go saying those things about me!" She shouts. _Yep. . . She hates me. . ._ The elevator doors open again and Haymitch, Cinna, Effie, and Portia walk into the hall.

"What's going on?" Effie asks, clearly confused. "Did you fall?"

"After she shoved me." I say. Haymitch whirls around to face Katniss, and Cinna and Effie help me up.

"Shoved him?" He asks her.

"This was your idea, wasn't it? Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?" She replies. I will not let her take this out on Haymitch.

"It was my idea," I say as I start to pull pottery out of my hands, which makes me flinch. "Haymitch just helped me with it."

"Yes. Haymitch is very helpful. To you!" She spits out at me.

"You _are_ a fool," Haymitch says disgusted. "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you could never achieve on your own."

"He made me look weak!"

"He made you look desirable! And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until he said he wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!"

"But we're not star-crossed lovers!" She says. Haymitch grabs her by the shoulders and slams her against the wall. Which makes me raise my eyebrows. But they go back down almost immediately cause I'm still pulling shards from my hands.

"Who cares?" He says. "It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived. The most I could say about you after your interview was that you were nice enough, and even that was a small miracle. Now I can say you're a heart breaker. Oh, oh, oh how the boys back home fall longingly at your feet. Which do you think will get you sponsors?" _They were already doing that. . . _I think. _Including. . . Him. Wait a second. . . What if. . . What if he's her. . . Most likely. She could never love me, anyways. . . _She pushes his arms to the side and steps to the side. Cinna goes over to her and wraps an arm around her.

"He's right, Katniss." He says.

"I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid." She says.

"No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real." Portia points out. I had almost forgotten she was there. I yank out another piece of the urn. _I bet-_

"She's just worried about her boyfriend." I say. _Crap. . . Thinking out loud is a bad thing! But since you did, might as well just keep it up for now. . ._ Katniss is starting to turn red. Not a surprise.

"I don't have a boyfriend." She tells me.

"Whatever. But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides _you_ didn't say you loved _me._ So what does it matter?" I say. Katniss just stands there, but I can see the anger fading from her face. After a minute or two, she finally speaks up.

"After he said he loved me, did you think I could be in love with him, too?" She asks, not to anyone in particular.

"I did." Portia says. "The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush." Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna agree with her, nodding and saying a thing or two.

"You're golden, sweetheart. You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block." Haymitch says. Oh. Well, what about me, Haymitch? Will I get any sponsors?

"I'm sorry I shoved you." Katniss tells me. I just shrug.

"Doesn't matter. Although, it's technically illegal." I say. Which, of course, it is. Tributes aren't allowed any physical contact before the arena.

"Are your hands okay?" She asks.

"They'll be alright." I reply. _But not in time. . ._ I think. After that, there's silence. The mouth watering smells of our meal float into the room as we stand there, and hunger wins out.

"Come on," Haymitch says. "Let's eat." We follow him into the dining room and sit down. I'm reaching for a napkin when I notice my hands are dripping blood everywhere, and I shoot a worried look to Portia, who gives me one in return. She gets up and takes my arm to get me treatment just as the soup gets to the table. I guess I won't be eating any of that. She leads me out of the room down to the base level of the Training Center to a nurse's office.

"Oh, goodness!" The nurse exclaims when she sees my crimson colored hands. "What happened?!" I glance at Portia. She can tell I'm starting to panic, not wanting to get Katniss in any trouble.

"I. . . I, uh. . ." I stutter. Before I can say anything else, she comes to my rescue.

"He tripped and fell into one of the potted plants on the roof after we got back from the interviews. It's already been taken care of, but by the time we sat down to eat, he was bleeding all over the place." I purse my lips.

"Oh, dear. But you go into the arena tomorrow, don't you?" She asks me. I give a slight nod.

"Yeah." I sigh.

"Well, that's too bad. This will be a disadvantage for you." She says. She actually sounds sad.

"Yeah, I know." I reply. She finishes cleaning my hands and starts applying an ointment, which really stings. I cringe a little, and the nurse sighs.

"I'm still going to bet on you, though." She says. Huh. I didn't think anyone would want to bet on _me._

"You're. . . You're going to bet on me?" I ask.

"Yes. I've liked you since the reaping. Haven't changed my mind. There. All wrapped up. Now you better go back, big day tomorrow." She says, gesturing to the door. We just reach it when her voice stops us. "Oh, and Peeta?" I turn to face her. "Good luck." I nod and give her a half smile, then walk out, back towards the elevators. The doors close, and I turn to Portia.

"Thanks for back there." I tell her. She smiles.

"I knew you didn't want to get Katniss in any kind of trouble. And, I think you needed it, anyway." She replies. I smile at her just as the doors open to our floor. We get back to everyone else and I finally get some food into my system. After we eat, we watch the recaps of all the interviews. Seeing them all again doesn't help my nerves. And now that I see the District 2 boy's full interview, he is, in fact, very brutal. If he's like this now, who knows what he'll turn into later. This stops me up short. What _will _he become? What will everyone else become? What will _I_ become? _Think about this later. . . Now's not the time. . ._ I tell myself. Katniss is charming, according to everyone else. But to me, she's more than that. She's beautiful. They say I'm charming as well, but in the end, I'm known as the boy in love. And, like it or not, Haymitch was right about it getting us both sponsors. The anthem plays it's last notes and the screen turns black, and we're all silent. But I already know what everyone's thinking about. I, Possibly, only have thirteen hours left to live. Tomorrow we go into the arena, and I'm pretty sure Katniss and I are major targets. We have to get up around dawn to be prepared, then enter at ten A.M. It's nine right now. The last time the tributes see their mentor and escort is the night before the Games, so this is where we have to say goodbye. Effie gets up and comes over to us, so we stand up. She takes us each by the hand, crying, and bears us farewell. And since Effie is Effie, she also says "I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get permoted to a decent district next year!" And with that, she kisses us both on the cheek and walks out. Haymitch stands in front of us with his arms crossed, watching us closely.

"Any last words of advice?" I ask him.

"When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopia. Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourself and the others, and find a source of water. Got it?" He says.

"And after that?" Katniss asks.

"Stay alive." Haymitch replies. He's not laughing, and he's not drunk. So he must really mean it this time. There isn't really any words of farewell I can say. And I guess Katniss feels the same, cause we only nod. Katniss heads to her room, but I stay to talk to Portia. I need to tell someone. . . I can't keep it completely to myself or I might phych myself out. I walk over to where she is, and she's just finishing a conversation with Cinna.

"Hey, Portia. Cinna." I say.

"Peeta." Cinna says. He comes over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "I need to go. But I just want you to know. . . I wish you all the best of luck. Goodbye, I know you'll do well." I nod.

"Bye, Cinna." I say with a half smile. And with those words hanging in the air, he leaves the room, leaving Portia and I alone.

"Peeta, you should be getting some sleep. Big day tomorrow, you're going to need it. Who knows if you'll get any once you're in there." She tells me.

"I know . . . But there's something I wanted to talk to you about first." I reply.

"Oh, alright. Come sit." She says, leading me to the couch. She sits next toi me and then looks at me expectantly. I sigh.

"Earlier, while we were watching the recaps, a thought occurred to me. . . What if. . . While I'm in the arena, I change?" I say.

"Change? What do you mean?" She asks softly. I guess she heard the concern in my voice.

"I mean. . . You know when someone is faced with life and death, they'll do anything to stay with life? What I'm trying to say is, I don't want them to change me while I'm in there, Portia. Change me into somebody I'm not." I answer. I could be overcome with something if I'm not careful. Maybe go insane or rabid. I don't want that to happen to me. I can already tell the boy from two is going to experience this. And he'll probably be the one to kill me. But if I'm going to be killed. . . To die. . . I guess I. . . I still want to be me. I just don't know how to keep myself here yet.

"Peeta. . . Listen." She takes one of my hands in both of hers and looks me straight in the eyes. "I understand what you're telling me now, but. . . I know that won't happen to you."

"But what if it does, Portia? I won't be able to stop it from happening, now will I?" I say, still concerned.

"You will."

"How?"

"Peeta. . . If you're really that worried, there are always ways to keep yourself present."

"Name one." I demand. She takes a deep breath and looks out the window at the other end of the room.

"Believe it or not, I sometimes feel like my identity is slipping away from me. So what I do is I focus on one thing I want to do, but have to be me to accomplish. Something only I can do." She says. She turns back to me. "That's one way. But there are other ways, too." I turn my head away from her and look at the floor, considering this option. _Focus on something you want to do, but can only be yourself to accomplish. _"Come on. You need to get to bed. And frankly, so do I. I'll see you in the morning, okay?" I nod and look at her.

"Okay. . . Thanks, Portia." I say. She gives me a half smile.

"You're very welcome. Goodnight, Peeta." She says, and leaves the room in the direction Cinna went.

I go back to my own room and take a quick shower to get the hair gel out of my hair, but being very careful of my hands. I pull on some long-sleeved sleep clothes and carefully apply new, dry bandages to my hands that I found on one of the dressers. I climb into bed and lay there. My body refusing to rest. There are too many things to think about. The Games, My family, my stratigy, but most important, how to stay _me._ Well, not the Games, actually. It'd be a waste of my time. Because I've known from the moment they pulled my name out of that ball, that I'm going to die. I'll last five minutes, if I'm lucky. Thinking about it now, thinking about my family would be a waste of time, too. Cause I don't really think they'd care if I died or not. Well, my dad might, a little. But he'd get on and forget about me. My stratigy? I have no clue what I'm going to do. So, really, that only leaves me one thing to care about at this point. _How can I stay me?_ I just lay there, still as a statue, surrounded my darkness, trying to find something, anything to help me. One hour goes by, nothing. Two hours pass, nothing. _I can't take this anymore. . ._ I think._ . If I stay in here any longer I might explode. Two and a half hours and I've got nothing. I need air. . . _I pull back my blanket and walk to the door, then quietly open it. I check both sides of the hall as I step out, and carefully make my way to the rooftop door. I open it and step out into the cool air, and immediately notice how loud it is. I walk over to the edge and peer over the side. The noise is coming from down below, Capitol citizens celebrating the Games. Like a giant party, in our honor. And since it's the Capitol, I can't even tell if they're dressed in costume or not. It's so sick what they think of us! Just parts of their entertainment. . . Pieces in their Games. But we're not! We're living, breathing people, just like they are! They don't own us! They don't own _me_. I'm more than just a piece in their stupid Games. . . I wish I could show them that. . . Somehow. . .

"You should be getting some sleep." Katniss says behind me. I jump, but I keep watching the people below. I just shake my head a little.

"I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all." I answer. She walks over and stands next to me, and looks over the side.

"Are they in costumes?" She asks.

"Who could tell? With all the crazy clothes they wear here. Couldn't sleep, either?" I reply.

"Couldn't turn my mind off." She says.

"Thinking about your family?" I ask. I would be, if they cared about me at all.

"No. All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course." She answers. This takes me by surprise. She has a reason to think about her family, unlike me. Didn't think she'd worry about the arena until tomorrow. "I really am sorry about your hands." She admits.

"It doesn't matter, Katniss." I tell her. "I was never a contender in these Games, anyway."

"That's no way to be thinking." She says.

"Why not? It's true. My best hope is not to disgrace myself and. . ." I hesitate. How can I say this? Should I even tell her? "I don't know how to say it exactly. Only. . . I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" I ask her. She shakes her head. I guess I need to tell her everything I've been thinking about. "I don't want them to change me in there." I say. "Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

"Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"She asks.

"No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight." I say. She's not going to get what I'm trying to say. . . "Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to. . . to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games."

"But you're not.," She says. "None of us are. That's how the Games work." Yep. Thought so. But now what can I say for her to understand? There's still twenty-four of us, and we all have minds of our own, perform our own actions. . .

"Okay, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me. Don't you see?" I insist. If she doesn't see it now, I don't think I'll be able to get her to.

"A little." She says. Well, a little is better than not at all, right? "Only. . . no offense, but who cares, Peeta?" Who cares? I just explained all this to her, and she asks me who cares? I care. I can feel myself growing angry.

"I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" I ask her. I lock my eyes on hers, waiting for an answer. I guess my anger registered in my voice, because she takes a step back. We're being sent away to be murdered! Who knows what we'd do to prevent it. What else _is_ there to care about?

"Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive." She says. I give her a sad smile. It's like everything I just said is complete nonsense to her. Like the only thing that matters to her right now is what Haymitch says. Stay alive. Never thought of that. Maybe I'll try it.

"Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart." I tell her.

"Look, if you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some noble death in the arena, that's your choice. I want to spend mine in District Twelve." She tells me.

"Wouldn't surprise me if you do." I reply. Of course she does. She has reasons to. All of a sudden my mother's last words play themselves in my brain, and a fresh wave of anger and sorrow washes over me. "Give my mother my best when you make it back, will you?"

"Count on it." She shoots, then storms off the roof. Once the door shuts, I guess my bowl of emotions overflows. I slam my hands down onto the railing. And, thanks to the bandages, doesn't hurt that much. I set my head on my arms, which are now sitting criss-cross on the railing, to sort through my thoughts. How can she not get it? Portia understood. Cinna would understand. And, like it or not, Haymitch would, too. I wonder what's going on in that mind of hers. Still surprised she hasn't been thinking about her family. What could anything about tomorrow possibly be worth thinking about? We could both be dead in twelve hours. Not even. Killed in cold blood. Who knows what will happen in the first few hours. But whatever does happen, I have to find a way to last. And so will Katniss. . . Especially since we're on our own. . . A feeling of determination starts building up inside of me, and my heart starts beating faster. Out of nowhere, it's like a heavy weight falls on my head, and everyone else's words come flowing through my mind. Including a couple of my own. _Heads high, smiles. They're going to love you! I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. You're golden, sweetheart. She's a survivor, that one. Give my mother my best when you make it back, will you? For her to understand how much you care for her, she's going to need a lot of convincing. __**Focus on something you want to do, but can only be yourself to accomplish.**_I lift my head up and look down at the citizens below. Everything had already been brought together, but I'm just now clicking it into place. _Something only I can do._ That feeling of determination has spread through every inch of my body, and my heart is racing a thousand miles an hour. I finally know what I want to do. What I _Have _to do. I know it will cost me my life, but. . . . I have to protect Katniss. She has to go home.

I take one last look at the roof, sigh, and make my way back to my room, quietly closing the door behind me. _Maybe now that I have a clear head, I can finally get some sleep. . . _I think. I into tha bathroom and fill one of the small cups with water. I chug it down and crawl into bed. And I was right. Because as soon as I close my eyes, I'm out like a light. I'm roused By Portia before the sun comes up and dressed in simple underclothes, then she leads me out the door, down the hall, and up the stairs to the roof. We step out, and a hovercraft materializes out of nowhere and drops a latter. I sigh and step on. As soon as I do, I can't move. I guess they did something to it so we don't fall off. I'm lifted up into the hovercraft, but once I'm inside, I'm still paralyzed. A man comes into my view with a long, thick-needled syringe. I would probably widen my eyes, but I can't.

"Alright, Peeta. Hold still so I can place your tracker." He says. _Dude. I can't move._ . . I think. He stick the thing in my forearm, and pain shoots through the length of it. If it weren't for the latter, I would have cringed. He extracts the needle and I'm released from my frozen state so they can retrieve Portia. When she's up, an Avox girl, a different one than Katniss knows, leads us to a part of the hovercraft where our breakfast has been set. As soon as I see the food, I feel like I'm going to throw up. I look at Portia.

"I. . . I can't eat any of this. I'll puke." I say.

"Peeta." She says seriously. "You need to eat. I know you're nervous, but you have to get some food in your system before you go in there. This is your last chance to get it." I glance at the food. All the eggs, bacon, pancakes, hash browns, biscuits, pitchers of juice and milk, and the pots of steaming hot chocolate. All sitting there, mocking me. I look back at Portia, who raises an eyebrow at me and points towards the feast before us. I turn back to it and sigh before walking over.

I didn't realize how hungry I was. Or nervous. Probably both, in my case, where I'm going. I feel like a pig being fattened up to be sent to the stockyard before it's butchered. But that's basically what I am. That's what we call the Launch Room in District Twelve. The stockyard. I'm not sure about the other districts, what they call it, but it makes sense to call it that to me. But now that I'm the one going there, it's even more terrifying. I stop eating and grab an empty cup and fill it with water. I drain it and refill it, over and over, until Portia stops me.  
"Peeta. . . That's your eleventh cup in two minutes. Slow down, you'll choke!" I finish filling my cup, then set the pitcher down and walk over to one of the windows. I look out at the tops of the trees as they pass under the hovercraft, and the birds that fly by the window. After a while, all the windows go black. We must be nearing the arena. It's the only explanation. I feel the hovercraft thump on the ground, and Portia and I make our way to the latter. But, this time, we're lowered through a tube that goes underground, under the arena, to where all the Launch Rooms are. I brush out my hair and clean my teeth, and take a quick shower. Only because it was ordered by Portia that I take one. As soon as I'm out, my clothes get here. She waves me over and helps me dress. Green T-shirt, sandy-colored pants, strong belt, leather boots with socks that hug my feet. And last, she helps me into a thin material black jacket.  
"The jacket is a material that reflects the person's body heat. Good to have if it's cold out." Portia says. I nod. "Do you have a district token?" She asks me. I purse my lips and shake my head. I never really thought about it, actually. "Then. . . You're ready to go."

"Yeah. . . I guess I am." I say, my voice is shaky. "Portia. . . About what you told me last night. . ." She takes my hands in hers.

"Did you set your mind to something?" She asks.

"Yeah. . . I did." I reply softly. She raises her eyebrows at me, and I take a deep breath before answering. "Portia. . . I'm not coming out of that arena." I say.

"You're not going to try?" She asks.

"No, I am, I'm going to try to stay alive as long as I can, but. . . But not for me." I reply.

"What are you saying, Peeta?"

"I mean. . . I took your suggestion and found something only I can do. . . I have to keep Katniss alive. And that means taking my own life."

"Oh. . ." She whispers.

"I. . . I love her, Portia. Haymitch helped me realize that. I have to protect her." I say. She nods just as a female voice says it's time to prepare for launch. A sudden feeling of fear shoots through me, but so does something else. . . Courage, I think. I look at Portia and hug her. She's surprised for a moment, but she hugs me back. "Thank you." I whisper. "For everything." She gives me a sad smile and nods, and I walk over to my tube.

"Peeta?" Portia says, Just as I step onto the metal plate. I turn to her. "You're a good kid. Make it worth it. I believe in you." I give her a halfhearted half-smile and a small nod, just as the glass decends around me. We share one last glance at each other, then I begin to move up. I'm in darkness for what I judge to be about fifteen seconds, then I'm blinded by the bright sunlight beaming down. Everything in my vision is white, but I take in a scent of pine trees and feel a strong breeze. My plate stops rising, and the voice of the one and only Claudius Templesmith blares out from all directions. "Ladies and gentleman, let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!" Even though I've entered a battlefield, there's only one thing on my mind. At all costs, _I have to protect Katniss_.


	11. Chapter 11: The Careers

**The Games have begun! Please review after you read this chapter! It's really important to me that you guys review this one. Good or bad, PLEASE review! 3 It will help me in the future:3 And since it's the careers, there IS cussing. . . It made sense to me to make it part of their speech, so I'll probably keep putting some in. But only when nessisary. So leave your thoughts after you read! C: Loaf you guys, and thank you for reading! :D  
~Katelyn**

I can't move. I can't move for one minute. If I do, I'll be blown sky high. And I really don't want that happening. It's been what I guess to be about thirteen seconds in the arena when my eyes start to adjust to the light. Straight in front of me lies the golden Cornucopia, stacked to the top with life saving supplies. Weapons, food, medicine, clothes, water, tents, and the closer the items are to me, the less they'll help me. But I find myself staring at a good sized water canteen, about seven and a half yards in front of me. Probably empty, but it's better than nothing. My eyes dart up, looking behind the Cornucopia and the arc of tributes, and find myself looking at a forest. It extends to my left, and on my right side, it's like a steep hill, but I can just make out the top of some grass. I cock my head around and see a lake. I turn my attention back to the pile. Haymitch was right about me not being up to the blood bath, that's a fact. But if I can get that bottle, I should be okay. At least for a while. And since I'm not going to be the Victor, a while is all I need. I scan the tributes to my right, but Katniss isn't there. I turn my head to the left, and see her, five tributes to my left, which is a bit too far for my liking. But she's positioning her legs to run. She's getting ready to sprint to the pile! Exactly what Haymitch said not to do! She's going to get herself killed! _No,_ I think, _not on my watch. _She looks over at me, but I don't think she can see all that well because the sun is in her face. I shake my head at her. _Don't do it, don't be stupid!_ Hopefully the message goes through. But the best I can do is hope, because as soon as I turn back to the Cornucopia, the gong, signaling that we can now move, sounds.

Without hesitation, I jump off my plate, run up and grab the canteen, and make a break for the lake. I'm about a third of the way there, when a pair of iron balls attached to a wire, comes flying into my right leg, sending me into the dirt. I turn in time to see the boy from District Seven, very close at hand, barreling towards me with an axe. I was running away from it all! Why would he follow me? He's four yards away from me when he raises his axe over his head. I roll away, but he sees it, and the axe sticks in the ground. An inch from my head. I get up as fast as I can, and as he's prying his weapon from the earth, my eyes land on something behind him. A yard and a half back, lies a knife that he must have dropped, glinting in the sun. I lunge for it just as he gets ready to attack again. We're really not too far from the other tributes, but far enough for this to be a somewhat private match. We're standing in front of one another, and when he sees the knife in my hand, his eyes widen in recognition and alarm. We're now at a stand off, his axe against my new knife. He must not think so, because after about a minute, he steps forward and swings his axe. I step back, avoiding the blade, and while he's regaining his control, I slam the bottom of my canteen into his head and kick him in the chest, sending him to the ground. I grab his bag from his back and sprint towards the lake. As I'm running, I look behind me to see him making his way back to the Cornucopia. I leap over a rock and conceal myself in a small clump of trees. I push aside a branch just in time to see that District Seven boy get gutted like a fish by the boy from District Two. Even from here, I can thee the blood on his sword. I swallow hard and slowly ease the branch back into place, then turn and walk towards the lake. I set my pack on the shore and squat next to the water. I twist the lid of my canteen off and push the lip underwater. The sight of the boy with the sword, covered in blood, pops into my mind. I don't know how he could kill someone that easily. How he could have such a strong hatred for every single person in this arena. If he were to be the Victor, everyone he murders will haunt him for the rest of his life, but he probably wouldn't know that till after. Good thing he won't be getting out of here. I lift the canteen out of the water and put the lid back on. I stand up, pick up my backpack up off the ground and go back to my little clump of trees. Now that I can see it from the back, there's a small window-like section, but it's concealed from the front. I set my bag down and peer through. Some of the tributes, I can clearly see at least seven from here, lay dead on the blood-stained grass. About eight still fighting, and four or five of them are Careers. The blood bath is almost over. I need to clear out. I take one last look at the Cornucopia, the battling teenagers, and take off towards the deeper part of the woods.

Now that it's been a couple of hours, I see that it was a good idea to go to the lake first, because the sun is really beating down. Before I know it, my water is gone. Now I have to be careful about being in the sun. I wonder what Katniss is up to. If she even made it away from the blood bath. . . No. She's smart enough to make it out, that I know is a fact. And knowing her as much as I do, she probably got out with at least one useful thing. I just got lucky. My foot catches on an upturned tree root and I stumble forward. When I regain my balance, I find myself standing in a small stream. _Yes! _I think. I didn't think it would be this easy to find water, but then again, I'm probably just lucky. Never thought that would be a possibility for me. But it's probably not going to last that long. _Now would be a good time to go through the backpack. . . _I tell myself. I place the canteen between some rocks to fill up, and sit on the riverbank with my bag. I unzip the top and raise an eyebrow. This pack must be from the mouth of the Cornucopia, because there's some pretty good stuff in here. Rope, a small tent, a thin sleeping bag made out of the same material as my jacket, but the inside is lined with silk. A bag of dried fruit, a good sized bag of beef jerky, crackers, another water canteen, iodine, a first aid kit, A knife, matches, a couple of apples, wire, and a pair of warm gloves. Good thing I paid a lot of attention to the survival skills in training, otherwise I probably wouldn't know what the iodine was for. I switch out my two canteens, and put a couple drops of iodine in the full one. I put everything back in the bag, but keep out an apple to eat on the go. Another good thing is that the backpack in camoflauged. It blends in with the terrain. Awesome. I hoist the supplies onto my back and start walking again. I slip the apple in an outside pocket of the pack because I really don't need it. The food I ate in the hovercraft is still keeping me going. For now. So I better save my food for when I really need it. Because once it's gone. . . How am I supposed to get it back? I can't hunt or set snares like Katniss. I have really no knowledge of the earth and plants. And even if I did manage to catch a squirrel or something, I wouldn't know how to gut and skin the thing. So pretty much when my food supply is gone, it's gone. Unless I can find Katniss, I'm screwed. Well, I'm already screwed, anyway. So I guess it doesn't matter much. Suddenly, there's a tilt in the ground that I notice too late. I step on a large leaf that slides forward, and I fall. This is not a good slope to be falling down on. I keep tumbling over rock and sharp branches. One good sized rock hits my face hard, I can already feel it swelling. I can also feel the ground flattening out again, which is making my painful tumbling slow down. But instead of slowly coming to a stop, my left foot get caught between two large rock, making me stop abruptly. I sharp cry of pain escapes me before I can stop it. I sit up on my elbows and slowly lift it up, trying to make it as painless as possible, but I'm not doing a very good job at it. I set it down and immediately know it's sprained pretty bad. I slip off my backpack and rummage through it until I find the first aid kit. I sift through its contents and find some painkillers. I put the kit back and take two pills, gulping down a pint or so of water with them. I screw the lid back on, and the first cannon goes off. One cannon means one tribute dead. 2, 3, 4, 5. . . . I count them as they go off, and I can't help but wonder if one of those cannons is for Katniss. But I guess I'll find out when the show the deceased in the sky during the anthem tonight. The last one fires. Eleven. Eleven dead, thirteen alive. The scene of the District Seven boy being slaughtered comes into my thoughts again, but I shake my head to get rid of it. I really hope I don't die like that. But I need to get moving if I'm to have a better chance of that not happening. I slowly start to stand up, being very careful of my new injury. I take a deep breath, then carefully put weight on it. It's painful, but unbearable. This I can handle. I'll just be limping for a while. I swing my pack on and start limping away from the slope, watching where I step. I wonder if any of the Careers died at the blood bath. I doubt it. It's not fair, how they always survive. Yes, they're trained, but it's still unfair. But even in the other districts, they learn things that are useful here before they're even reaped. But since I'm from Twelve, plus I'm from town, I never would have learned anything, anyways. But the boys in our district don't start working in the coal mines until they're eighteen, and that would be useful. But we'd be too old. Just another downfall of being from District Twelve.

A few more hours go by before the throbbing in my ankle becomes too intense. I stop and take a couple more painkillers and take the tent out of the backpack. Now would be a good time to make camp, before it gets dark. And cold, for that matter. I unroll it and shake it out to where it's flat, then lay it on the ground on some leaves. I slip the poles in where they're supposed to go, at least, where I think they go. It doesn't look quite right. I take a step to the left to get a better look at it, and thank goodness I do, too. The footsteps are there before I can react. A knife whizzes past me on my right, grazing my upper arm, making blood drip down my forearm. I whirl around and find myself face to face with the Careers. A fresh wave of fear settles in as my jaw slightly drops, which makes them smirk. I have to put my hand over my knife wound to stop some of the blood.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Lover Boy." Says the boy from District Two. "Where's your girlfriend? She leave you hanging?" I lower my head a little and clench my jaw, swallowing hard.

"No." I say. "I just haven't found her yet."

"What? You mean. . . You haven't seen her since the gong rang out?" He asks, pretending to be confused. I take a deep breath.

"Just kill him, Cato, so we can move on. Or I will." Says the District One boy. At least, I'm pretty sure he's from one. He's the only other male tribute. The boy from District Two, Cato, turns to face him.

"Shut up, Marvel! I'll get to it!" He says. Cato turns back to me and takes a step forward, and I take a couple painful steps back. "Oh, well, what happened to your ankle? Oh, yeah. Wait a second, I don't care. And next time you get hurt, you might want to keep your voice down. People might hear you and find you. But, for you, there won't be a next time." He turns around again and holds out his hand. The blond haired Career, who I also think is from District one, tosses him a sword. Once again, he turns back to me, tossing the weapon back and forth between his hands. He stops it in his right hand and looks at it for a second, then looks at me. I'm fixated on his silver blade. I had hoped I wouldn't be sliced in half, but I guess that was too much to hope for. He lunges at me, sword raised, and since I really don't know what else to do, I pull my knife from my belt and raise it above my head, and the two blades clash together. Cato just laughs. "Well, would you look at that. Lover Boy here is going to try and fight me!" He exclaims. The other Careers start laughing, too. He takes a step back, and I relax a little. "Do you even know how easily I could kill you right now?" He says, and comes in for a side swipe, but I parry it away. "I'm just messing with you right now. Making you feel like you're putting up a good fight. When really. . ." He starts to swing his sword to my left, so I bring my knife to block it. That was a mistake. And apparently what he wanted, because when my knife reaches my side, he grabs my wrist with his free hand and squeezes it really hard, making me drop my weapon. Once it hits the ground, he slams me into a nearby tree and puts the sword to my throat. "You're not." He finishes. I swallow hard, which is a little bit painful with a sharp edge pressing into my neck. "So. Any last words, Lover Boy?" This is it. This is my end. I'm not getting gutted, but this is almost as bad. My throat being slit and bleeding to death. Not pretty. I just can't believe I'm already going out. I can't believe I'm not going to be here to keep her safe. . . _I'm so sorry, Katniss. . . _I think. Wait, Katniss was the one who got the highest score in training. She stood out it her interview and I put a huge spotlight on her by saying I loved her. She's most likely the Career's number one target. And if they thought I could lead them to her, and knew she was weaponless. . . Or at least thought she was. . .

"Fine. Kill me. But if you do, you'll never find her." I say. Cato narrows his eyes and leans closer.

"What are you talking about?" He demands.

"I mean I know which way Katniss went. Where do you think I was headed?" I reply. "And she's empty handed. She doesn't have any weapons or supplies." He looks away from me to think, but keeps the sword at my throat.

"He's lying, Cato." Says the District Two girl. "She made it out with a small orange backpack. And when I threw a knife at her this morning it stuck in the pack, so she has my knife." He looks back at me with his eyebrows raised.

"You trying to trick us, Lover Boy? Well, nice try." Cato says, pressing the sword in harder.

"No! Well, yes, but she was running into the woods when another tribute snatched it from her. I think it was that girl from District Five, I'm not sure, but it's gone, I swear. I saw it with my own eyes." I insist. _Please believe me, please believe me! _I think. He's quiet for a minute before he speaks.

"You can take us to her?" He asks.

"Yes." I answer. He's silent for another few minutes.

"Alright. Fine." He says.

"But Cato!" Exclaims the District Two girl.

"Hey! Shut up." He tells her. He pulls his sword away and takes a step back. I rub my neck. "I'm Cato. That's Clove, Marvel, Glimmer, and Taylor. Let's get moving." He says as he walks back to the others. But he turns around and walks back, leaning in close, so now his face is only an inch from mine. "But if I find out you're lying to me, you're dead. And once we find her and kill her, I'm going to kill _you._ Got it?" He asks. I nod.

"Yeah. Got it." I say.

"Good. Now pick up your tent and let's go. And, wrap up your arm so you don't bleed to death." He says. I bend over and start taking out the poles and rolling up the tent, but watch him as he makes his way back to the others. _I can't believe I'm doing this. . . _I think. _Joining the Careers. . . No one in District Twelve would want to do such a thing. . . This better work. . . _I stuff the tent in the backpack, taking out the first aid kit, pick up my knife, and walk over to the Careers. Marvel looks me up and down, and Cato snatches his spear from his hands.

"Hey!" He exclaims. Cato points a finger at him.

"Shut up and _don't_ argue with me." He snaps. He walks over to me and thrusts the shaft into my hands. "Here. Take this."

"But-" Marvel tries to continue, but Cato cuts him off.

"Hey! If he's going to be in the group, he needs something better than just a knife. Besides, you have several more back at the lake, and that's where we're going. We'll refill our water, restock our supplies, and get a couple hours of sleep before we start hunting the others." He glares at him, but finally agrees.

"Fine." He spits out. He looks at me again, then rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he heads back in the direction they came. They all follow him, and I have no choice but to follow and wrap my arm up while I'm walking.

After a couple hours of walking, I finally catch a glimpse of the lake. A little ways off from it is the supplies. Piled high in a giant pyramid. About five or ten yards to the right, they have a large pop-up set up and blankets spread under it as a shelter. They also have chairs and a couple of coolers under it, and made a fire pit a few feet away. I can't help but raise my eyebrows. The anthem starts just as we step out of the trees.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Glimmer says, pointing up. "Look!" They all look up and start grinning.

"Yeah!" Marvel says. "Time for our moment of pride." I look at him and sigh. Pride? He's out of his mind. But then again, they've all been training to kill their whole lives. So, they pretty much are. I look back up at the sky just as the first dead tribute, the girl from District Three. Then they show the boy from Four. As his picture shimmers in the air, I hear Taylor smirk. The boy from Five is next. I'm relieved the girl from his district is still alive at the moment, because I wasn't even sure if she was or not. Both from Six. When the face of a tribute they killed shows up, they pat one another on the back and congratulate each other, making comments on how they did it or something like that. The boy from Seven shows up, and the scene of Cato gutting him comes to my mind again.

"Dude," Marvel says to Cato, "the way you took him out, almost cutting him in half like that? That was awesome." I swallow hard and my stomach starts to feel queasy. That was the complete opposite of awesome. I don't know how he could think that. Even if he is a Career. They show the girl from his district and the boy from District Eight, and both from District Nine. Since I now know Katniss is okay, I really don't care who the last tribute is. The girl from Ten flashes in the sky, then it goes dark. The other Careers are all laughing. "Eleven gone, twelve left to go!" Clove says, followed by high fives and cheering from all around.

"Okay," Taylor says, silencing everyone. "Let's get to camp. I actually want to get some sleep before we head out and hunt later."

So we all walk to the camp, and when we get there, I notice a boy sitting near the pyramid of supplies. He's holding a spear and watching the woods like he's on guard.

"Who's that?" I ask out loud, pointing to the boy.

"That's Isaac. District Three." Glimmer answers. "He watches all the stuff while we're gone."

"Oh." I say.

"Isaac!" She shouts. He starts, then looks over. "District Twelve here is with us. And since you two are outsiders, make nice. You'll both be dead soon, anyway." And with that, she snatches something out of the pile and treads over to the others by the fire. I give him a tight smile and set my things down.

"Never thought I'd see a tribute from District Twelve with the Careers. How'd you get in?" Isaac asks.

"Oh, uh. . ." My voice trails off. I'm starting to panic. What do I say, what do I say? _Lie, Peeta! Lie!_ I tell myself. "Umm. . . I don't know. They told me when they found me I'd be a good addition to the group. I accepted because it's probably the best way to stay alive. At least for a while."

"Huh. You're lucky. I had to beg. Marvel over there almost ran me through with his spear. This was the best offer I could get, but I barley got it. The only way they agreed is when I told them I could booby trap the supplies so the only way to get to it is from this side. I'm here all the time, but in a way, it's better because I don't have to take my chances in combat. Yet." Isaac says.

"Booby trapped? How did you do that?" I ask. I mean, how _could _he do that? Make this side the only way to get to this huge pile? How it's possible is a mystery to me.

"Oh, it was easy. I just reactivated the mines that are around the plates we stood on. So if someone tries to come to the pile from any other direction, they'll be blown to bits. Simple, really." He says. I get up and glance behind the pile. The ground around the plates has been brought up then patted back. I raise my eyebrows. Man. I wonder what the Gamemakers think of it.

"Wow." I saw. Isaac smiles.

"Yeah. Here. " Handing me some bread and beef jerky. "You better eat then get some sleep. I think you guys are leaving in a couple of hours." I give him a small smile and take the food.

"Thanks." I say. He gives me a shy smile as I sit down and start eating. It's a change from the food in the Capitol, but I'll get used to it soon. I finish it in about five minutes, then I lay my backpack down to use as a pillow, and fall asleep as soon as my eyes close.

I wake to Isaac shaking my shoulder.  
"Hey, Peeta, get up. You're leaving in a few minutes." He says.

"Oh, Okay. Thanks." I say, groggy from sleep. "How come you're not calling me Lover Boy like the others? I didn't question Cato and them because I don't think it's a good idea to irritate them, but I didn't think you'd try to kill me if I asked." I say. He gives me a half smile.

"No, I wouldn't. And to answer your question; I don't see any reason why I should. I'm good at reading inner emotions. Back home, my friends came to me for relationship advice. Or any advice, for that matter. I can tell you really care about her." He pauses for a moment, and when he speaks, he's whispering. "That's why you're doing it, being a Career. It's to protect her, isn't it? To keep the other Careers away from her?" He asks. I just stare at him, not really knowing how to reply. After a moment I just swallow and look away, which only confirms his suspitions. He sighs. "It's a good thing you're doing. Dangerous, but smart at the same time." He says. He looks behind me. "Looks like the pack is leaving. Better go." I nod and stand up.

"Hey, Lover Boy! Let's go!" Marvel yells at me. I sigh.

"See you later, Isaac." I say, and follow the others.

Since it's now dark out, we had to bring flashlights with us, but we also lit a few torches because the temperature has dropped. Good thing we got these jackets, too. I walk in the back, behind the other five like I have been for the past few hours. If I walked in the group with them, I feel like I'd have to start calling myself an actual Career. I am not calling myself a Career. I never will. Ever. I wonder what time it is. Almost dawn, certainly. We've been walking for hours. They'll most likely wait till our water supply is low to head back to the camp. "Hey!" Glimmer says.

"Hey, look! Over there!" She points a little ways to her left. I look where she's pointing and see a flickering light. "A fire!" Glimmer starts laughing, and Cato and Taylor join in.

"Yeah, we got one!" Clove says, starting to laugh, too.

"Let's go!" Marvel says excitedly, waving the rest of us forward. They break into a run, so I do the same. We get to the tribute's fire and I see her. We clearly woke her up because of how slow she's moving. But it's really too late for her to try and make a run for it.

"No. No, please," She pleads. "No! Please don't kill me! Please!" Cato just smiles and pulls his sword from his belt. He lifts the blade above his head, and I look away as he brings the blade down on her. The sound of the impact is sickening, and her blood curtling scream of pain is hard to bear. He yanks it out and starts laughing, and the others join in, congratulating him.

"Twelve down, and eleven to go!" Cato shouts. They cheer and Cato kneels to check her supplies for anything we can use. He frowns. "There's not a damn thing in here!" He says. "She wouldn't have made it very long with this shit." Marvel peers in the small pack and smirks.

"Nothing but bullshit to me." He says. Taylor glances in and rolls her eyes. Cato stands up.

"Better clear out so they can collect the body before it starts stinking." He says. Clove, Glimmer, and the other mumble, agreeing with him, and we turn and start walking away, pushing branches out of our path as we do. They all talk to each other, but I walk in the back and stay silent. They stop in a small clearing by some willow trees, not fare from the dying tribute.

"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" Marvel asks.

"I'd say yes." Clove replies. "Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately."

"Unless she isn't dead." He says.

"She's dead, I stuck her myself." Cato tells him.

"Then where's the cannon?" Marvel asks him.

"Someone should go back," Taylor suggests, "make sure the job's done."

"Yeah. We don't want to have to track her down twice." Marvel snickers.

"I said she's dead!" Cato snaps. They all start arguing. I just want to get as far from the scene of the murder as possible, and this is not going to help do that.

"We're wasting time!" I shout. I don't want to say this, but it's probably the only way to get them to shut up. "I'll go finish her and let's move on!" There's a rustle in one of the trees near us, probably a squirrel or something, but I ignore it. And so do they, because they just stare at me.

"Go on then, Lover Boy." Cato tells me. "Go see for yourself." I stare at him. I really don't want to go look. And if she's alive I'll have to kill her. I don't want to kill her. But if it can help get Katniss home, I'll have to. I sigh and turn around, then make my way back to the girl's crackling fire, and the place of her murder.


	12. NOT A CHAPTER -- UPDATE NOTE

Hey you guys! I am SO SORRY it's taking me so long to get the next chapter up! I didn't have access to a computer half of Febuary and March, and I started writing a book of my own, and one with a friend of mine. But I plan on trying to finish writing chapter 12 tinight and then I'll work on typing it up to the computer so I can post it. Plus my swimming has been claiming more time. So once again; I'm sorry. I'm hoping to have it up by at least the 7th! :)  
Just keep checking, reading, and reviewing. Love you all! :)  
~Katelyn


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